Calzona: Lost In Time
by hopeforeverlove
Summary: Callie and Arizona are two restless housewives in 1950s suburbia. One wants to be a doctor. The other wants to understand love. The only thing separating them is a white picket fence. What happens when they cross it? Their hearts become intertwined as they find comfort in one another. This is the last thing 1950s society wanted for the "perfect"housewives. Will it stop them?
1. Author's Note

Dear Reader,

This is a 1950s Calzona fanfiction. Callie and Arizona are creations of Shonda Rhimes. I just wanted to put them in the 1950s suburban life. The 1950s were a time of sexism and prejudice when women were expected to stay at home. I will incorporate 1950s references and slang as well, so Google may be handy. Although I will try to be as historically accurate as possible, sometimes it won't be. For example, Callie is Hispanic, and the 1950s were still a time of racial prejudice. Nonetheless, I will try to present the 1950s through the plot lines with Callie and Arizona. The chapters will be in alternating points of views. Callie and Arizona would both have short hair because that was the style back then. They obviously wouldn't wear pants or t-shirts. Housewives of that time wore 1950s style dresses. Google them if you need more of a visual. I really hope you like this, and please review/give feedback if you can! I have exciting things planned for this story. I will try to update as much as I can. :)

-Hope


	2. Bio: Arizona Robbins

**Character: Arizona Robbins**

**Daughter (age 3): Violet Robbins**

Arizona was named, not after the state, but for the U.S.S Arizona that her grandfather helped build in the mid-1910s. Her grandfather later died in World War I, and his death led her father to also pursue a job in the military. Her father and brother were both in World War II, and she grew up respecting militarism. Her brother Tim came back in a coffin. He sacrificed his life in the Battle of Iwo Jima. This incident left a huge impact in Arizona's life while she was already struggling to find out who she wanted to be. Where she belonged. It wasn't easy fitting in the culture of the 1950s. Eventually, she gave up and gave in. When she got married, she thought the adolescent doubt was all behind her. But now, Arizona is a 25 year old housewife. She has been married for four years to whom she thought was the man of her dreams. Once she finished high school, she had soon found her future husband while working as a waitress. After six months of playing dumb, fake smiling, and fake love, he asked her to marry him. When he kneeled down on one knee, she thought the entire world was supposed to light up. It didn't. But she accepted his proposal despite the hollow dullness of his unrequited love. She didn't love her husband, but when she walked down the wedding aisle, when they drove in their new Ford car to their suburban home, when he told her he wanted kids, it felt too late to turn back. Too late to cross the white picket fence. So she did nothing…once again. She gave in. She gave up. Nothing changed. A year later, she gave birth to a daughter named Violet. Now, in her white-picket-fence life, her daughter was her world. She loved her three year old daughter Violet. Right now, it felt like the only good thing in her life. She knew her husband loved her, and she knew he gave her everything she ever dreamed of. Like she was the princess in the castle from the fairy tales. But it wasn't enough. Her life wasn't enough. Her family wasn't enough. Her "love" wasn't enough. Her house wasn't enough. Her white picket fence wasn't enough. She felt dirty like her entire life was lie. And there was no possible way to clean the restless thoughts from her mind.

_The white picket fence. The white picket fence. The white picket fence. _ It was suffocating. Someone needed to come and get her from her tower. The walls were all she could see. She was supposed to know her place. Her place to hide behind the walls of suburban life. Her place to cook dinner in the kitchen. But not everyone could be June Cleaver.


	3. Bio: Callie Torres

**Character: Calliope Torres**

**Two Sons (age 2): Mark and George Torres**

Ever since she was young, Calliope Torres knew what she wanted in life. She wanted a family. She wanted to be loved. She had read the romantic books and had seen the romantic movies, but Callie was also ambitious in life, not just in love. She knew love wasn't everything. The heroines in the romances were never people she aspired to be. Callie grew up admiring the "wrong" people. Jane Addams. Elizabeth Blackwell. Susan B. Anthony. She didn't want her existence to be merely trivial. Callie didn't want to simply be known as the woman with the best blueberry pie recipe. So she had studied well in school and had begged her parents to send her to college. She wanted to be a doctor, not a nurse. She wanted to save lives. But her parents had shaken their heads and reminded her of her place. Instead they married her off to a doctor, the neighbor's son. She was supposed to be the perfect Catholic housewife. She was supposed to cook and clean and take care of her two sons. Callie knew she wasn't supposed to read her husband's medical magazines, but the dream of hers had never quite gone away. Now, Callie is 23-year-old housewife wanting a different life. Love wasn't what she thought it would be. Life wasn't what she thought it would be. She knew her husband since childhood, and he was a good man. But she couldn't be the perfect wife. Perfect was never the word she would use to describe herself. Callie felt knotted inside, wanting to be someone more than a wife and mother. She dreamed of going to the city. Dreamed of putting on a white coat over her favorite dress, but everything felt too late for her.

Her life was spent waiting for the right moment. The right day. The right hour. She wanted change more than the government wanted communism to disappear. But sometimes change wasn't good. Her marriage was falling apart. She blamed herself for letting it slowly slip through her fingers. She wanted to give her husband another baby. Something to keep him from leaving her. Callie thought she knew what love was, and she thought she loved her husband. She couldn't be the perfect wife. Perfect was a word stripped from her vocabulary. Even God seemed to lose faith in her. On the inside, she was falling apart. On the outside, she smiled and offered her dinner guests wine.


	4. Chapter 1: Silence (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: Silence**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is obviously AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible. **

**Notes: This chapter is dedicated to Victoria because she supported me ever since I got this random idea. I hope you like it!**

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The silence. The silence was the worst of it all. Apart from the occasional car and the ticking of the wall clock, the entire house was filled with unbearable silence. On some days, it drove Arizona mad. On others, she almost enjoyed it, the perfect atmosphere to think. To worry. To wonder. Wondering was what she did most of all because what else was there left to do? The days seemed to grow longer as each hour dragged on and on. While the women on television seemed to think there wasn't enough time in the world to clean the entire house and take care of all the children, Arizona did not. Maybe it was because she didn't clean the entire house. Maybe it was because she didn't have many children. Just one. Her Violet. Violet was already napping for the afternoon, so it left Arizona feeling lonely. At least it seemed like the best word to describe the hollow feeling. She wasn't supposed to feel lonely. Arizona could hear her mother's voice in her head. _You have no reason to feel lonely. What more could you possibly want? Stop grumbling, and try to make your husband happy. _But happy wasn't something she knew too well anymore. She had spent so many years trying to create her own definition for the word. Now, it became meaningless.

Arizona stared at the wall clock on the opposite side of the room. She was sitting on the living room couch, trying to practice her knitting. Knitting wasn't something she was very good at though, but it seemed like the housewife-like thing to do. The wives on television shows always seemed to know exactly how to work the needles and yarn to make something practical. Practical like a little hat or a scarf. But to Arizona, it didn't seem practical at all when there was a store only a couple miles away. Convenience was a necessity these days more than it was a want. More people had telephones. More people bought new kitchen appliances. More people bought cars. Every house had one. In fact, these days, the houses that lined her street seemed to have two cars parked on the driveway, instead of the usual one. Another car would be nice, but sometimes Arizona wondered what she would do with one. Sure, the other housewives would go out shopping or attend PTA meetings. Having a car would mean freedom. But if she had freedom, sometimes she wondered if she would have the self control to not drive and forget to turn back. '

The television in the corner was at low volume, and it played the same old same old. Some public announcement meant to alarm each household. Some commercial about a new type of makeup. Some television show about one big happy family. Television was no longer considered a luxury. They said ninety percent of households had one, but Arizona still thought of it as one. It was a luxury to believe in television; to laugh at a joke made on a comedy show; to cry during a sappy romantic movie. These days, she didn't seem to be doing much of the laughing or crying or believing. Two more hours until her husband would come home. The day would be over soon…

After putting away her yarn and needles in her knitting basket, Arizona finally stood up from the couch. The blonde woman turned off the television set and knew it was time to get ready for her husband's return. The daily routine of "freshening up". The daily routine of "making herself look pretty." Pretty seemed to be the only asset that women had to offer. To think she used to envy this life when she was younger. It had seemed so simple and perfect long ago. Now, it was a life she lived without any meaning, worth, importance. But it was her life, and it wasn't exactly something one could go around changing so quickly. She smoothed down her light blue dress before casually glancing out the window. The rows of houses used to be a comfort for her, for they were reminders that she wasn't truly alone. However, Arizona knew she was different. The things that interested the other housewives would bore her. PTA meetings. Fashion. Cooking. The other women spoke as if they were the sole things that mattered in the world. Like fashion would decide the Soviet Union's fate. As if Stalin's wife's choice of clothing could stop a war or a nuclear bomb. There were things like she wasn't supposed to find interesting. Like politics. And women.

The next door neighbor had moved out a couple of months ago, and secretly, it had been a pleasure to hear about their leaving. True, the Petersons had been nothing but lovely. Their children were well-behaved and kind towards Violet. Mrs. Peterson, a woman in her mid-30s, seemed to have mastered the art of cooking, always inviting Arizona's family over for dinner. And Mr. Peterson was a good fellow. His family was perfect. But their presence was demanding. The only hostess Arizona seemed to be was the hostess of bad thoughts, fake smiles, and forced conversation. No one could certainly enjoy her meatloaf, with or without conversation in between. She couldn't even manage to make a cake without botching up the recipe somehow. So it was nice not to have so much depended on her and her cooking.

Then, a moving van, attached to a car, pulled up onto the driveway next door. If she had been one for gossip, Arizona would have heard all about the family that bought the house next door. Fortunately, she knew better than to participate in such activity of snide comments and hushed whispers. The car door opened, and a woman walked out. For a moment, Arizona forgot she knew about breathing. The woman's dark hair was styled short as a bob, the almost mandatory fashion of the decade. That was all Arizona could see, for the woman stood on the other side of the car. But from the glimpse of her new neighbor's face, that was all Arizona needed to see to know that she longed for the woman's companionship. Perhaps, she wouldn't be so lonely after all.

"Momma," she heard a soft voice call her as it traveled down the stairs. Arizona turned back, taking her gaze off the dark-haired woman.

"Violet, you woke up from you nap," Arizona stated, bringing a smile to her face. Her daughter was lovely, and according to everyone else in town, Violet looked exactly like her mother. Same hair. Same eyes. Same smile. Everyone talked about her having a second child, but no one knew that it would be impossible. Her husband had chosen to keep it a secret from the community, for the talk and pity were never something to crave. The complications with Violet's pregnancy had left her unable to conceive again. Sometimes Arizona wondered if another child would even make any difference at all. The hours seemed to drag on and on, no matter the company.

Violet, after carefully walking down the steps, ran to her mother. The little girl hugged Arizona's legs, and the blonde woman smiled affectionately, picking up her little daughter. "Well, I guess you aren't so tired anymore," she replied playfully. "You know, why don't we turn on the radio?" she exclaimed. The sound of her own voice almost startled her in amidst of all the silence. She walked over to the table in the corner. With one hand, she removed the decorative cloth from the top and turned the knob to a music station. With her daughter still clinging onto her shoulder, Arizona smiled. She bounced her daughter to the beat of the music, hoping that they could do something to drown out the silence.


	5. Chapter 2: Neighbors (Callie)

**Chapter Title: Neighbors**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: Thanks for all the feedback! You guys are great! **

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There was something quite dreadful about packing and unpacking. As if all one's memories could be simply stored in a box. All the years Callie had spent in the old house were in boxes. The precious moments with her sons were no longer things she could find in the weirdly-shaped indentations on the walls of her old house. Sure, the new house was lovely. The patio would be a nice place to relax, and the kitchen, she heard, was to die for. At least that was what the real estate agent had told her. Callie knew the last thing she would die for was a kitchen, but at the time, she had simply nodded her head and smiled. Her opinion wasn't supposed to matter, so why bother offering it? To the real estate agent and the rest of the world, she was just a housewife…so why even bother?

The one good thing she hoped for was a nice neighborhood, and according to the same real estate agent, the families here were kind and considerate. That was all Callie cared about when it came to finding a new place. Hopefully, the neighbors would actually be kind and considerate. The women in her last neighborhood hadn't taken it too well when they found out her family was Catholic. With the firm prejudices placed by the Ku Klux Klan and many others, being Catholic was as bad as being Japanese. But Callie didn't understand prejudice. She didn't understand much of how the world worked, for she never had the opportunity. Of course, no one taught classes about stereotypes and prejudices. People just made them up.

Callie looked around at the walls of her new house. The couches and chairs in the living room were covered with white cloths to keep the dust away. A rolled-up rug leaned against the wall in the corner. They were almost all settled in. She remembered the real reason why they moved to a new neighborhood in the first place. None of it had to do with the prejudices against Catholics or, God forbid, the need for a better kitchen.

Change. She longed for a change somehow to try to reconnect with her husband, not that she had much chance to connect in the first place. Since she had turned thirteen, she knew about her parents' desire to marry her off to a nice Catholic boy, in fact, their neighbor's son. The wedding hadn't been too bad, for she didn't hate her husband. In fact, she loved him, or at least, she thought her feelings toward him fit the definition of love. So when he told her about buying a new house, she had no objection, even though all her precious memories stored in the old house of her sons would be missed. Callie knew their marriage deserved a chance. Something to get her-them-back on stable ground.

The boys, Mark and George, were settled in the corner of the living room, playing with a red fire truck. Mark didn't like to share with his brother, so Callie could only hope a fight would not ensue. Her sister always assured her the two little ones were simply "roughhousing." _They were only boys after all. _But Callie thought back to a time when she wouldn't even be able to go outside. From a young age, she knew life was different for her gender. Nonetheless, she loved her sons, but it didn't mean she would tolerate violence or "roughhousing" in any form. She smiled lovingly at her sons as she continued unpacking the boxes.

After the movers had helped her and her husband, the only thing left was unpacking. The work of unpacking was almost too much for one person, but her husband had been called on an emergency. One of his patients had a seizure, and he needed to check it out. The commute to his clinic was shorter from the new house, but her husband would still probably spend hours away at the most unlikely of times. He often told her it was the doctor's duty, but every time he mentioned his career, Callie almost never wanted to listen. It reminded her too much of her own hopes and dreams that she could never pursue. Would her destiny be forever in the home?

The doorbell rang. Callie wiped her hands on her apron and got up from the floor. She knew it couldn't be her husband because he had left only a little while ago, so Callie wondered who it could be. She didn't think it could possibly be her neighbors already since she had just arrived, but she opened the door nonetheless. On the doorstep stood a blonde woman. The woman smiled. Callie found herself mirroring the same smile, without even knowing the woman's name. There was something about her eyes; her smile; her hair. Callie didn't know whether or not she wanted to be her or- "Hi, I'm Arizona Robbins," The woman set down the child before offering her hand.

"You must be my neighbor," Callie answered, shaking the woman's hand.

"I live next door. This is my daughter Violet," Arizona replied, gesturing in the direction of her house and then at her daughter.

Callie realized she was still opening the door. "Well, come on in. The place isn't exactly the cleanest right now because of the unpacking...I'm Callie by the way. Callie Torres," Callie replied, leading the woman into her new home. She closed the door softly behind her. Half an hour ago, if she had been asked to invite someone over, Callie would have completely refused. But this. Her. Callie didn't mind so much.

Arizona looked around, still holding her daughter's hand. "Callie...does that stand for something?"

"Calliope. It isn't the best name I know, but my father is fascinated by Greek mythology," Callie replied. The two stood in the foyer. Arizona with her daughter. And Callie with her apron still on.

"Calliope...no, I like it." Arizona replied, her eyes still wandering. She noticed two little boys in the corner, playing with a toy truck. Arizona smiled. "Violet, can you say hello to the nice lady?" she asked of her three-year-old. The little girl hid behind her mother's skirt instead.

Callie laughed, "She's such a doll. How old is she?"

"She's almost four," Arizona replied with the same smile on her face.

"Sorry, I normally would offer you something to drink, but I haven't had a chance to shop for groceries yet." Callie mentioned, smiling at Violet. "You should have a seat," she offered, walking through the boxes to the chair in the corner. She tripped. "I'm such a spaz," she stated nervously while removing the white cloth from the chair. Callie knew she wanted to make friends with the neighbors, but she was afraid of making a fool of herself. So far, making a fool of herself seemed to be the only good job she was doing.

After Arizona sat down, setting Violet on her lap, Callie took the chair right next to the other one. Mark and George soon toddled towards her, already curious about their new neighbors. Almost three, the two boys already mastered the art of walking, often using each other for support. Callie pulled her sons onto her lap as well, then looking over at Arizona. "My boys. It's a surprise to find them not fighting," she said. She introduced the new boys to Arizona and her daughter. Callie didn't say anything else, not knowing what else to say. She figured this was the part where she talked about her life or—"Where did you move from?"

"What?" Callie hadn't been paying much attention, her mind traveling too fast for her ears.

"You moved from?" Arizona repeated. Even when Callie looked away, Arizona couldn't.

Callie answered, "Across town. We wanted more space for the boys to play in." _Lie. _But Callie didn't think it was necessary to explain herself to someone she only just met.

"There's a playground a couple blocks away. It's a nice neighborhood. I mean, it's good most of the time. A lot of kids, I guess," Arizona mentioned, smoothing down her daughter's dress.

Callie nodded. The moving hadn't allowed for an afternoon nap, so the two boys cuddled against their mother's body. If there was thing she was sure about her life, it would be being a mother. She had wanted kids. There was no dispute with her husband about that. Sometimes she thought another kid would solve all the problems she had with her husband now.

At this point, Arizona realized she was staring for too long. When Callie looked back at her, Arizona cleared her throat. "Uh…the Petersons used to live in this house. I'm not exactly sure why they left,"

"Am I supposed to know them?" Callie laughed in reply.

Her face reddening, Arizona shook her head. "No, I guess sometimes I expect people to just read my mind,"

"Oh, I'm the same way. You should see me when I'm very tired. My husband, so far, hasn't been able to figure me out,"

Arizona's smile tightened. "Where does he work?"

"He's a doctor. His clinic isn't too far away from here," Callie answered.

Arizona stated slowly, "I'm married to a businessman. He used to be in the army before we married."

Callie nodded. She knew all too much about war. It tore people apart. "Well, you must be very grateful to be with him," she replied, smiling.

Arizona didn't say anything. She had to go back to the house soon. If she wanted to have any chance of setting the table before her husband arrived, Arizona would have to start cooking now. "I-I should go. Come on, Violet" Arizona stated. After setting Violet on the floor, Arizona stood up and walked back to the foyer.

Callie slowly set down both Mark and George on the chair. Both of the boys were apparently exhausted and decided to nap without any objection. She stood up, trying not to trip over the boxes on her way to the foyer. "Again, I'm sorry about the mess. It was nice to meet you," Callie answered, pulling Arizona into an embrace.

Slightly surprised, Arizona hugged the woman back. Whatever nerve she had had to come over and greet the new neighbor suddenly felt normal. "You should have dinner with us some time," Arizona told Callie, her smile returning to her face.

Callie nodded. "Is that a question or an order?" she asked, joking.

"Well, you don't exactly have a choice," Arizona replied, scrunching her nose playfully. "Anyway, I got to split. We should talk later. It's certainly nice having a young next-door neighbor to talk to," she added, taking Violet's hand.

Callie held the door open for the woman until she left. She smiled. Maybe this new neighborhood wouldn't be so bad after all.

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**Is Arizona being just neighborly? Or is there something else going on? ;)**


	6. Chapter 3: The Storm (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: The Storm**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: In this chapter, I make an allusion to Grey's Anatomy. Hope you catch it! :) **

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Gray. The grayness was all Arizona could see as she looked out through her kitchen window. The sky was a mix of stormy clouds and darkness. She never understood how the weather could change so quickly. Change quickly...like people's opinions. One second, a person could think of others as the greatest people to exist on earth. The next, the same people could be seen as nothing more than complete scum. Gossip was a cloud of whispers and lies and nonsense. But Arizona wasn't afraid of storms, at least she liked to think she wasn't. Her mind wandered off as she watched the storm brewing.  
She turned her head back facing the kitchen sink. Visiting her new neighbor hadn't given her enough time to finish washing the dishes. Washing dishes had never been an enjoyable task for her. Was it an enjoyable task for anyone really? But she was used to it. Before she married, the town diner had been her home away from home. It was where she made her money and friends. But marriage had taken both things away from her as she lived this dependent life of kitchen timers and daytime television.

Arizona continued washing the dishes solemnly, only the refrigerator's hum filling the room. With the food ready and the table set, the last piece of the puzzle was her husband who had gone upstairs to freshen up. As she rinsed the last plate and loaded it into the dishwasher, Arizona too realized the need to get ready for the affair of supper. A joyous occasion it would be not however. She knew dinner too would be solemn. Her whole life was solemn. It was the word of the century to describe her restlessness, her agony, her wanderlust. Hush. The reprimanding of her conscience often reminded her of her mother's. So she knew better than to think unhappy thoughts. After all, housewives were the opposite of unhappy. Even though she knew she couldn't be that perfect housewife, she had to make the best of her life. Was there nothing else she could do?

Arizona stood at the kitchen sink for a moment, processing her thoughts that always seemed to follow after housework. These days it was harder for her to shake them out of her head. "Violet?" Arizona finally called out as she began to wipe the counter top surrounding the sink.

"Hmm," the three-year-old answered, busy dressing her paper doll. With gentle hands, Violet was careful not to rip the pretty clothing designs, a result unavoidable for most children. But Violet was gentle in nature, handling everything with care. The other ladies in the neighborhood always seemed to remark that Violet would make a good mother, as if that was all that matter. Arizona couldn't help want more for her daughter, but she took the compliment nonetheless. No one cared about anything else.

Arizona nodded and smiled at her daughter who was sitting in a corner of the dining room. She walked over to Violet, and the three-year-old stood up, knowing what she had to do. "Let's get you cleaned up before dinner," Arizona announced softly before leading her daughter to the powder room.

In the powder room, Arizona turned on the faucet as Violet stood on her step stool. Arizona let the water run until it turned warm enough for her daughter's little hands.

"Is there going to be a storm, Momma?" Violet asked quietly. It seemed the three-year-old too saw the darkening of the clouds.

"I think so," Arizona answered, washing her daughter's hands under the faucet. For a moment, the thought of her clothes on the clothing line flashed through her mind.

"I'm scared," Violet confessed, her voice growing even weaker. Violet looked into the mirror as she waited for her mother to answer the question.

"You're a big girl, Violet. Don't worry," Arizona said absent-mindedly.

"What if it never goes away?"

"Storms go away most of the time, sweetie. We'll be fine," Arizona answered, "I know how to survive storms."

The two walked out of the bathroom after cleaning up. Arizona had time to run a brush through Violet's hair and then her own. Over the years, dinnertime had become some sort of ritual. Arizona untied her apron and set it down on a kitchen stool just as her husband walked down the stairs.

Arizona presented her housewife-like smile. But his "good evening" seemed forced as he sat down at the head of the table.  
Arizona smoothed her dress down before sitting at the other end. Violet, too big for her high chair but still not big enough to reach her food, sat on a couple of cushions.

A moment passed before Arizona said something else. "Rough day?"

Her husband started to serve. Arizona first. Then, Violet. And lastly himself. "I guess you can call it that," her husband finally answered. "The company has some financial problems. There's going to be budget cuts, and it's quite stressful..."

Arizona nodded as he continued talking. She began to cut Violet's meat into pieces, knowing that Violet would probably end up making her mother feed her. Arizona looked back at her husband as he grumbled on and on about his day. She had grown used to listening, not expecting anything in return. In the end, her problems or anything didn't matter as much as her husband's. After all, she was just a housewife, not the breadwinner of the family.

For a moment, knives clinking, the family chewed and swallowed their food. Violet had known better than to play with her food tonight, so Arizona could enjoy her meal in peace, or at least try to. She thought about the family next door. Were they having dinner right now? What was Callie doing?

Slowly, "Did you see the new next door neighbors?" Arizona asked.

"Pardon?" her husband answered, having not been listening.

"Did you see the neighbors?" Arizona repeated before taking another bite of meat.

The man nodded slightly. "I saw their car out on the driveway. Why did the Petersons move anyway?"

"I'm not sure,"

Pause.

"Are they nice?" her husband asked while eating his dinner.

"I-I only met the wife, Calliope Torres. She's...she's nice," Arizona answered. She liked the sound of the name on her tongue. It felt right.

"Great, any kids?"

"Two little boys. Year younger than Violet,"

"What does the husband do?

"Doctor. I-I was thinking of inviting them to dinner on Friday,"

Her husband sighed. "I might have to work late that night, but I'll keep it in mind,"

Arizona didn't say anything.

"I was thinking about checking out the Ford dealership later this week."

"Oh," Arizona said.

"But the company needs to be stable before we decide anything,"

"Before _you_ decide anything," Arizona blurted out.

Startled, "Yes, that's what I said."

"I think it's going to storm."

"I moved the car inside anyway." Pause. "This could use more salt." he stated, pointing at the meat with his fork.  
The rest of the dinner continued on silence. After dinner, her husband went upstairs with Violet. Arizona rinsed the plates in the sink, loaded them in the dishwasher, and finally turned the machine on. The noise of the dishwasher matched the sound of the thunder grumbling above the house. Suddenly, Arizona remembered the laundry hanging on the clothes' line outside. With the edge of her skirt in hand, Arizona ran out the back door.

Arizona scolded herself for not getting the laundry as soon as the clothes had dried, but it was too late to reprimand herself for that. She gathered the laundry as the rain began to pour. Her favorite white dress was now drenched by the rain. Her hair as well. "Oh!" she exclaimed, careful not to get any of the clothes dirty. The last she wanted was to wash the entire laundry load over again. Of course, her Easy Washer made everything so much more convenient, but still, loading the washer again was not something she wanted to have happen. Just as Arizona was going to head back inside, a last-minute thought led her in the other direction.

"Arizona, you're wet!" Callie exclaimed after opening the door. She had already tucked in Mark and George for bed, and she too was ready to go to sleep, wearing only her nightgown.

"Because of you…I-I wanted to know if Friday would work," Arizona babbled.

Callie looked confused.

"For dinner, Calliope," Arizona qualified, embarrassed for coming like this.

The laundry in her hand, her hair drenched, and her mind in a jumble, Arizona hardly knew what had driven her to invite Callie at that very moment. Perhaps insanity? She waited for the other woman's response, hoping that Callie wouldn't think she was _too_ crazy.

Callie laughed. "I think that would be all right," she replied with a smile. She folded her arms, already feeling the chill of the night.

"Great!" Arizona replied with a smile.

"Do you want to come in?" Callie asked.

"No, that's not necessary,"

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine," Arizona insisted before walking back to her house. She knew she needed to clean up well before heading to bed. This hadn't been her best idea for sure, but she refused to let the storm ruin her day. After all, it had been a good one.


	7. Chapter 4: Melody (Callie)

**Chapter Title: Melody**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: **** I honestly had a lot of fun writing this chapter because I got to listen to 1950s music. The radio station is real, taken from a clip I heard on Youtube. And the songs and their lyrics are real as well, of course. The first song is "Singin' in the Rain" by Gene Kelly. The second song that plays on the radio is "You Belong To Me" by Patsy Cline. Feel free to listen to them while reading the fic! They are both quite good songs. Thanks for all the feedback! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!**

* * *

The afternoon sun peeked through the vertical blinds of Callie's living room window. It had taken much time and patience to put the twins to sleep, but finally Callie was able to have her sons nap while she could finally have some peace and quiet. Well, peace for that matter. The quiet. Not so much. A silly tendency, she quite thought it to be, was turning on the radio and singing along. Or at least humming since she had no trust in her singing voice. If there was one thing she knew, music could make anyone happier. Even if she was listening to it while cleaning. It filled the room with something other than the silence and boredom. Although no one was coming to _Callie's_ house that night, she was dusting the living room furniture while the radio played in the background.

_"Come on with the rain/I've a smile on my face/I walk down the lane/With a happy refrain." _

Callie hummed along as she straightened the painting she hung above the fireplace. A surprise to her, it hadn't taken long to fix up the house and decorate. The boxes that had cluttered the living room floor were moved. Callie had to admit her house sure was a sight. She loved the simple things of the house the most. Like the way the curtains over the kitchen window gathered the sunlight so nicely in the morning. It almost made the act of washing dishes more bearable. Everything was quite was lovely. So, with the twins' bedroom, the spacious kitchen, and her belongings in place, she felt as if she needed the house to become more of home. A home. Not just some run-of-the-mill place her husband had bought her to keep their marriage together. No, she needed a home. She deserved a home.

_"I'm happy again!/ I'm singin' and dancin'in the rain!"_

The gentle melody of the song playing on the radio brought her back into what she was truly doing. Instead of thinking and pondering. But cleaning. She was dusting the furniture, even though she suspected dust couldn't already accumulate. It had only been days since she first moved in. The truth was she was nervous about tonight's dinner. She almost dreaded it, considering her not too successful record of dinners. Callie was never the well-spoken woman who picked out her words as carefully as if picking out her evening dress. Somehow, her words always seemed to come out jumbled. Her words were a mix of hesitancy and confusion, and she dreaded the thought of her looking like an odd ball in front of her new neighbors. Though, it wouldn't be the first time she looked like a fool.

Callie had reached the instrumental portion of the song when Gene Kelly pulled off his famous tap dancing routine. And despite of her lack of dancing skills, Callie could no longer fight the urge to spin around like Gene Kelly once did. She lifted up her skirt and tried to follow the taps on the radio. Though, on carpet flooring and with no tap dancing skills, it certainly didn't achieve the same effect it did in the flick. But once the instrumental music ended, she plopped down on the armchair with a silly smile on her face.

_"I'm dancin' and singin' in the rain…"_

Callie felt lucky the house came with blinds covering the large living room because the thought of someone seeing her was mortifying. But she was alone. Right now, she was all alone in peace. For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself relax in the blue armchair.

The doorbell rang. Callie opened her eyes, wondering who the person at the door could be. But in the back of her head, she already knew. Arizona Robbins had come to see her every day this week. At first it had been surprising because Callie couldn't possibly imagine someone else enjoying her company. Now, four days after they first met, Callie was glad she met the blonde woman who was the same blonde woman standing on the Torres' front door step at that very moment.

"Hello, Arizona," Callie greeted before even opening the door all the way. She expected little Violet to be holding onto her mother's skirt, but she was not there. "Where's Violet?"

The other woman smiled at Callie brightly. "Now, I know what you're thinking, Calliope," Arizona started as she stepped inside the house freely. "You're thinking I'm silly to come over when you'll be at my house for dinner in an hour or so. And I know. I probably am. That is crazy, to be more exact. But dinner's ready. Violet's sleeping. And I can't seem to find anything to do,"

The radio, in the background, played advertisements before the next song would run. And Callie, for a moment, was overwhelmed, for it still took a while to get used to the babblings of Arizona Robbins. At least, she could make _sense_ of them unlike her own babblings. Her own babblings seemed to be the result of awkwardness and mostly stupidity. "Are you sure Violet will be okay alone?" Callie asked, worried for a moment. Although Violet was a year older than Mark and George, the dark-haired mother couldn't possibly imagine leaving her babies alone in her house. The house that still did not feel like a home yet.

"She _just _fell asleep," Arizona clarified, still standing in the foyer with Callie. "I hadn't had the time to get her to bed until after I finished cooking-"

_ "This is the Progressive Station with tomorrow's ideas here today. Here on KRIZ! I'm loving KRIZ, Channel 123 !"_

"So?"Callie started the same time the next song on the radio did as well.

Arizona stared into the other woman's eyes, and she no longer remembered what she had planned to say. In that moment, it barely seemed to matter. She did this too often. She came here looking crazy way too often. It was never the impression she wanted imprinted in Callie's mind. "I-I…could I borrow some honey?"

_"Just remember darling all the while,"_

"What?" Callie answered.

_"You belong to me," _

"It'll only take a moment. I just need to borrow some honey," Arizona explained.

"Okay," Callie answered, still confused, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to let Arizona use some of the honey from her honey jar. Callie walked towards her kitchen and then towards the pantry. On the top right stood the little honey jar she kept.

_"Just remember when a dream appears,"_

Callie came back with the honey jar in her hands. "Do you need anything else, honey?" Callie asked, laughing at her own joke.

_"You belong to me,"_

Arizona forced a smile. No matter what she did, the result always seemed to end in embarrassment. This entire week had been different for her. Less boring. Almost interesting. If anything, the dinner had to end up well. She couldn't lose the only friend she liked in the neighborhood. "No, that will be all," she replied, ready to head back to her own house.

_"Just remember till you're home again,"_

Callie nodded. All she could think about how much of a mess she looked like. Her hair was in a messy bun, and her apron was still on. She had planned to freshen up after Mark and George woke up, but she hadn't expected Arizona to come. At least at that time.

_"You belong to me,"_

"See you at dinner then," Arizona added looking into Callie's eyes. She gave the other woman a soft smile. Still carrying the jar of honey, Arizona headed back to her own place. What had seemed like a good idea at the time seemed like a complete disaster right now. The only good to come out of the meeting was a jar of honey she didn't possibly need.

_"I'd be so alone without you,"_

Callie sighed, realizing that now would be a good time to freshen up. She turned off the radio before heading upstairs. Dinner couldn't possibly be as awkward as that recent meeting. Hopefully.


	8. Chapter 5: The Dinner (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: The Dinner**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: I know. I know. I know. I haven't updated in a month, and I am quite horrible for doing that. But I have good excuses. 3 weeks of exams. The horrible finale to Season 9. My own laziness. Anyway, I decided not to do the dinner scene in three parts like I said before. I just made this an extra long chapter. I have the next two chapters written. So out of curiosity (since I want to know if people are still interested in this story), the more reviews/feedback I get, the less time it will take for me to update again. The next two chapters are quite...intense, so I think you might want me to update as soon as I can. **

* * *

Arizona thought the afternoon was absolutely embarrassing, and she figured she looked like a complete idiot coming over to Callie's house. The only result: embarrassment and an unnecessary jar of honey in her pantry. She guessed she felt some sort of connection between her and her dark-haired neighbor as if Callie were her best friend of – what was it again – four days? Sure, she did think Callie was at least her friend. Hopefully. She barely knew what Callie thought of her. But Arizona considered her to be a friend – a good friend…perhaps?

But somehow, it felt different. Somehow, Arizona couldn't describe it, it being their friendship. There was a certain amount of sincerity and light-heartedness to it. Already, Arizona felt…close to her neighbor and she felt weird about it all. Maybe it was because _she_ was weird, different if one were being nice. Perhaps this was all because Arizona knew she didn't have many friends. Or perhaps it was something else.

Someone tugged on her skirt while Arizona was in the midst of her thoughts. It didn't take much for her to discern it was her own daughter. The three-year-old was practicing her usual routine of napping, waking up, and watching afternoon cartoons.

"What is it, Violet?" Arizona asked, looking down at her daughter who was seated on the floor.

"Make it louder," the three-year-old ordered pointing at the turned on television.

"What do you say?"

"Pwease!" the little girl responded, giggling.

Arizona got up from the couch, being careful not to step on Violet's fingers. She bent down and turned up the volume using the dial. Slowly, the fuzzy cartoons could be heard better, enough to satisfy little Violet. Arizona left her daughter, giggling at the television, and she casually looked outside the window near the front door.

A shadow moved on the sidewalk before Arizona spotted the familiar face of her neighbor. Callie's smiling face seemed to illuminate the pathway, and behind her trailed her two sons. And then Callie's husband.

Arizona looked away and found herself blushing before joining Violet in the living room once again. Although she had been expecting her neighbors, she did not need them thinking she had been waiting night and day by the window.

A few seconds. The doorbell rang. Slowly, Arizona got up from the couch. Not too eager but just enough interest to casually open the door.

Violet looked up. "Mommy, can I open it?" Violet asked as she rushed to the door. Arizona laughed as she watched Violet try to figure out the lock.

"Here," Arizona said as she helped her daughter. Violet, at last, pulled the door open with as much strength a three-year-old could have.

Since Callie was holding both of her sons' hands, she greeted little Violet with her eyes and smile instead. "Look who woke up from her nap!" Callie exclaimed before slowly stepping inside the house, leading her sleepy eyed twins. Behind Callie stood her husband, and Arizona forced a polite smile and nodded. She had met him the other day, and although he seemed nice, perhaps even friendly, she didn't think she could like him.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Robbins," the man said with a small smile.

The blonde hostess led her dinner guests to the living room. Her husband was yet to arrive, but Arizona figured a half hour of small talk wouldn't kill her. After all, this was _her_ idea.

* * *

"Has Mr. Robbins been called out this evening?" Callie's husband asked before taking a sip of coffee.

"He's been delayed at work, but he should be here….soon, Mr. Torres," Arizona replied. She set her coffee cup on her saucer. One could already describe her as jittery, and certainly coffee didn't need to add to her jitters, her nerves, her preoccupied thoughts.

"_Dr_. Torres," Callie's husband corrected.

"Pardon?" Arizona asked, looking back at the man.

"Never mind,"

Callie was busy watching her sons while sipping her coffee. Mark and George's sleepiness had worn off, and the twins were busy playing with each other. Violet, though, was not in the mood to play with _boys, _so the little girl cooed at her baby doll while the adults had coffee. Callie looked up at her husband and then at her neighbor. She could sense her husband wasn't the happiest with being stuck in a house with two women. She knew him after all.

Arizona took it upon herself to be the one responsible for conversation. She set her coffee down on the table. With her hands folded together in the middle of her lap, she asked, "Are there plans for the new house?"

Callie looked at her husband before responding. He seemed bored. She knew he was probably too consumed with the thought of taking care of his patients or something like that. Some excuse, she supposed. Callie began, "Well…we've talked about buying new furniture…like for the twins-,"

"No, we haven't," interrupted her husband.

"Well, I was going to bring that idea-,"

"Why do we possibly need new furniture for the boys?" he asked, but there was no emotion in his voice.

Callie didn't say anything.

For a moment, Arizona counted the ticks of the wall clock, hoping that her husband would come soon. She watched Mark giggle as George ran after him.

"Boys," warned Dr. Torres before Mark bumped into his mother, causing Callie to spill her coffee all over herself.

Callie gasped and rummaged for her handkerchief. Luckily her coffee had been cooled down. Otherwise, she would have imagined it to be far more painful and far more embarrassing.

Arizona stood up while Callie's husband looked away.

Callie felt completely embarrassed while trying to dab at the neck of her dress. "I-I should go change," she announced as she felt herself grow warm in humiliation.

Arizona glanced at Callie's husband. Then, "You can just wear one of my dresses," she blurted out.

"What?" Callie replied, a bit confused.

"Uh…there isn't any need to go all the way back to your house…really," Arizona explained. She knew her dresses were loose fitting to practically fit anyone, and besides, the thought of being left alone with Callie's husband was certainly not a good one.

Callie looked at her husband.

"Well, if she's offering, darling, it would certainly make things easier than staying in a coffee-stained dress," stated the man.

Arizona let out a breath, relieved that her idea wasn't thought completely crazy. She led Callie up the stairs.

"Will he be okay alone?" Arizona asked Callie as they reached the top of the stairs.

"He'll be fine," Callie said quickly, trying not to ruin her already depressed mood.

* * *

Arizona's bedroom was shared with her husband. When she was younger, she used to think there was something intimate about a bedroom, something special. But to Arizona, her bedroom was anything but special. It was simple, useful, and nothing more. The room had two wardrobes: hers and her husband's. A dresser. A nightstand. And a bed. It felt empty though. Empty all the time.

Arizona led Callie to her wardrobe in the corner of the room, opened it, pulled out a couple of dresses, and laid them out on the bed. "You can choose whatever you want," Arizona said, trying to sound close to enthusiastic.

Callie folded her arms. "Well, just give me whatever. I'm _so_ sorry about this," she sighed. The coffee stain was still damp, so she picked up a plain dark red dress. The dress had a slight V-neck. And the design wasn't anything too complicated. Simple. Callie found it funny she picked the simplest dress when her life was anything but simple. "I'm sorry," she repeated and added, "I could wear this…um…where can I change?"

"Don't apologize," Arizona replied softly, "And uh…just behind the changing screen," She plopped down on the bed after moving the other dresses to the side.

Callie began undressing behind the divider as she unzipped her dress from the side seam.

Arizona stared at the divider blankly, found herself blushing, and turned her head towards the side. "We can eat dinner soon," Arizona announced, just to fill the silence.

"Oh, great!" Callie replied awkwardly from behind the screen. "Your husband…?"

"He'll be here. He's just been…busy," Arizona said. She smoothed down her dress and finger-combed her hair aimlessly.

For a moment, Arizona could hear Callie slipping into her dark red dress. "It was my mother's,"

"The dress?"

"Yes,"

"Well, it's beautiful. I like the material,"

"It's nothing much," Arizona said casually. Pause. "Do you need any help?"

"Actually, yeah. I'm having trouble zipping the back," Callie admitted, laughing slightly, "I'm more used to the side seam zippers,"

Arizona turned towards the dressing divider just as Callie came out. "Oh…that's a good color on you," Arizona stated. The red material hugged Callie's hips well. The dress came down to her knees. The pearl necklace Callie had paired with her own-now-coffee-stained dress looked even better with Arizona's V-necked one.

"Do you think it's too…showy on me?" she asked, scrunching her nose a little.

"No," Arizona breathed.

"Well, thank you," Callie said, "Probably should get this zipper zipped now…can you?"

"Of course,"

Callie sat down on the bed in front of Arizona. The zipper was in the middle of the dress's back. Arizona gently pulled a couple of strands of hair stuck in the zipper before slowly zipping up the dress. She placed her hand gently near the middle of Callie's back.

Once the dress was zipped, Callie looked back while turning her head towards Arizona. "Thank you…for everything really. It was nice of you,"

"No problem," Arizona answered looking into Callie's eyes. She admired the way the woman's eyes twinkled as she smiled. Arizona realized she still had her hand on Callie's back when she heard a voice call her from downstairs.

* * *

"That must be my husband," Arizona stated after removing her hand from Callie's back. She stood up and headed downstairs, knowing dinner would be served soon.

Callie followed her. The bow on the back of her dress was yet to be tied, and the strips of cloth dangled near her sides.

"I'll go set up dinner," Arizona announced to the men now seated in the living room as she and Callie stood at the end of the stairs. She then noticed the untied back of Callie's dress, and she impulsively started to tie a bow, pulling the ends tight but gently. Callie smiled at her husband, her mood starting to lighten up. "How does it look?" she asked her husband with Arizona still tying her back.

"Lovely," he replied, smiling warmly at his wife.

And with that, Arizona walked towards the kitchen, and Callie figured she might as follow and help.

* * *

The table was just about set. Callie finally spoke while Arizona was lost in her thoughts. "What did you need the honey for anyway?" she asked.

"Pardon?"

"Why did you need the honey?"

"Oh…um…" Arizona started, looking around for a good lie. Her eyes focused on the soup she was just about to pour into bowls. "For the soup,"

"The soup? Honey in soup?" What?" Callie laughed, slightly confused.

"It's an old family recipe," Arizona replied quickly.

"Oh…" Callie said, "How interesting. I will certainly try it,"

"Well, we can eat now," Arizona replied lamely, scolding herself in her head.

* * *

For the most part, dinner was a pleasant occasion, filled with aromas and polite conversation.

"Do you have many patients?" Arizona's husband asked Callie's between bites of food.

"For the most part, yes,"

"Do you have many interesting cases?"

"Occasionally. It's mostly the same old. Like colds and the flu,"

"Oh, I see," replied Arizona's husband. He continued, "I'm into business. I work for a marketing company. Co-founder actually. After the war, I wanted to get into the whole post-War industry."

"Oh, that's nice,"

"Yeah…" he looked at Arizona as if she could save him from his failing attempt at conversation. Then, Arizona's husband looked back at Callie's. "Why did you move into the neighborhood anyway?"

"To be closer to my clinic," the other man replied rather quickly. Lie.

"Well, it must be nice starting fresh again,"

"I guess,"

"Do you plan on getting anything for your house?"

Twice. Twice Callie and her husband were asked about buying things. It was to be expected though. In the age, what else did people have? What else did people have to look forward to besides materialistic goods? They simply filled the space.

"Um…I don't know," replied Callie's husband.

"We're thinking about buying a new car," replied Arizona's husband.

"That must be nice,"

Arizona's husband didn't say very much after that, and Arizona figured his financial thoughts were filtering through his head. If there was one thing she had in common with her husband, they talked too much to fill the silence. Arizona looked up from her plate, and she and Callie made eye contact.

Silence. Callie took it as the perfect time to say something. "This soup is quite good actually,"

"Oh, really?" Arizona replied, smiling warmly.

"Yeah, and I can hardly even taste the honey," Callie answered before spooning the tomato and "honey" soup into her mouth.

"Right…" Arizona replied, looking down at her plate again. She quickly glanced at the kids who were seated near the kitchen counter, eating macaroni and cheese…or, in Mark and George's case, applying macaroni and cheese onto their cheeks. Macaroni and cheese had been a food quite common in the war economy, but it soon became a treat kids loved to have.

Callie followed Arizona's gaze. "Oh, they sure are making a mess of their faces now, aren't they?" she asked, laughing slightly.

Then, "Do you treat everyone in your clinic?" Arizona's husband asked Callie's.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm asking if you have black patients as well as white ones," he clarified.

For a moment, Dr. Torres looked uncomfortable. Then, "No, whites only,"

"The way it should be,"

Callie peered into the conversation, focusing on her husband's expression. Suddenly, "It shouldn't matter really," she blurted out.

"Pardon?" Arizona's husband asked, even though he had heard her.

Callie back-tracked her thoughts. "Doctors save all lives. It's their duty…and…"

"Calliope," her husband warned sternly.

"Well, I would treat everyone…that is if I were a doctor—not saying I am, but…" her voice trailed off as she regretted everything she had ever said. She remembered her place. She wasn't a doctor. She was a housewife and a mother….a mother of two currently naughty boys.

* * *

Dinner soon finished but not until Arizona brought out the chocolate pudding she had made in the afternoon. So far, no one had complained about her cooking, and this was enough of an award for Arizona. But once the chocolate pudding was scraped off every one of the bowls, the Torres's, especially Mark and George, wanted nothing more than to go home.

"Thank you for inviting us," Callie told Arizona as the two women walked towards the door. "And I'm sorry…about the dress…and the dinner,"

"Don't apologize. You've done that enough," Arizona replied, "It's perfectly fine." She held onto Violet's hand as she looked Callie in the eye.

"Good night," Arizona's husband said rather stiffly.

Then, everyone else echoed their good nights as well before Callie and her family left. With Mark on her hip and George in her husband's arms, Callie walked out the door.

"You can stop by in the morning for your dress," Callie called out, looking back with the same smile on her face.

Arizona closed the door. "Isn't she lovely?" she thought and then said out loud.

"Perhaps," replied her husband, detached. He then walked up the stairs to go to bed.

When the man was out of sight, Violet looked up at her mother and yawned, "I like her." The three-year-old rubbed her eyes.

Arizona smiled at Violet, leading her daughter upstairs to go to bed. Only then would she be able to clean and put away the leftovers.

"Me too," Arizona replied, thinking, despite everything, the evening had gone well. However, in the back of her mind, she couldn't stop thinking she had forgotten something.

* * *

**I appreciate any feedback, so don't be afraid to leave a comment! You can probably tell the POVs are no longer limited as Callie and Arizona have more scenes together. I think I will always start and end every chapter in the either Arizona's or Callie's point of view, but in general, the chapters may include both of their thoughts. It's just kind of worked out that way. **


	9. Chapter 6: The Moon (Callie)

**Chapter Title: The Moon**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: Wow, I actually didn't really expect people to still follow this fic because I didn't post in a month. Ha. Well, if I don't post in a while again like weeks, feel free to bother me! But no worries. I have the first 50 chapters planned thoroughly, so no room for writer's block or anything there! 50 chapters...and that's only like half of the story. I think this fic will be a crazy ride for me mostly, but I definitely think it will be worth it, considering how kind you all are. Thanks for the great feedback! I would love to hear more from everyone. If you want to give me ideas (like historical events and such to include in the fic), you can always PM or send me a message on Tumblr. Thanks again! Now on with the update! :) **

* * *

These nights felt restless for Callie. It was like she couldn't get used to the feel of her house yet. Somehow, it still didn't feel like her house yet. Even with her husband sleeping next to her, she felt lonely. The silence of her new house felt different, sounded different as if she could barely recognize the hum. Callie wished it would start to feel like her house soon. She hadn't had a substantial amount of sleep in days, yet it felt like years.

After the dinner, the boys, including her husband, wanted to actually go to bed. A surprise for sure. Going to bed voluntarily was a first for Mark and George. The twins definitely had been tired out from the excitement of the night. She had tucked the little boys into bed, wishing it were possible to get bigger beds for the twins. As much as she hated the idea of them growing up, they were. Mark and George were getting too big for their cribs these days, and beds would be nice. Of course, that matter was entirely up to her husband. Callie would just have to be patient.

Once Mark and George were curled up into the fetal positions and asleep, she had left the room, slipped out of Arizona's dress, folded it, and changed into her nightgown. She too thought the exhaustion would make her want to go to bed and fall asleep. It was true that she was certainly exhausted. The day had been filled with cleaning, the dinner, and everything else in between. Callie could feel the sleep, wanted to close her eyelids, and relax, but insomnia had never been a forgiving enemy.

Thoughts. These nights, she was left with nothing but her thoughts. Her thoughts kept her up more than anything else. And now, she was in bed but not sleeping. She was waiting…waiting for something. Waiting for her dreams to become reality? Waiting for her life to start? Perhaps, she was simply waiting for a method to fall asleep. Lying down on her side, Callie was left staring at the wall across from her. She needed to fall asleep somehow, thinking back to the little pieces of advice people used to give her. A glass of milk had never been the best elixir for her to fall asleep, and counting sheep was completely boring. What to do…

So instead, she thought about her dreams…her desires…the things she prayed for but never received. Part of her had already lost hope though, and as much as she wanted to dream, wish, and hope, it seemed no one was listening. Callie half-wanted to look up God's phone number in the yellow pages. She wanted things to…fall in place…no matter how impossible they felt. Staying in the house forever seemed dreadful.

After waiting a couple of seconds, Callie got up from bed. She put on her robe. Since milk, sheep, and thinking wouldn't do her any good, she figured the crisp night air outside could clear her head for a bit and perhaps help her fall asleep as well.

Her husband turned onto his other side and groaned. "What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes still shut.

Callie tied her robe around her waist. "I'm just going to get some fresh air," she told him, folding her arms and heading downstairs.

* * *

Callie looked outside the window near the front door. She had no idea what was the most appropriate time to go outside in this neighborhood, but she figured ten at night was inappropriate for most neighborhoods. It wouldn't matter too much though. It wasn't like she would be strolling or anything. Perhaps simply standing outside for a bit would do her good. Callie opened the front door slowly, careful not to let the door creak too much. Another downside to the new house. Creaky doors and her were pretty much enemies.

As soon as the cool air hit Callie's skin, she instantly felt relieved and refreshed as her eyes widened. She began to question her judgment about fresh air helping. Instead of making her more sleepy, she had become slightly more energized. "Slightly" being the key word there. It seemed like it would be a long night for sure.

Standing on her porch, Callie looked around the neighborhood, admiring the other houses. The house across from her had a nice great big oak tree in the front yard. And next to that one stood a house with beautiful flowers growing all around.

As she transfixed her gaze onto another house, she noticed the clothes' line hanging between two medium-sized trees in her front yard. The backyard was yet to have two adjacent trees, so the clothes' line was best to be hung in the front yard. A couple of her husband's and the twins' shirts hung on the line.

Considering how little she had to do in this insomniac's hour, Callie figured she might as well fold the laundry since it would definitely be dry by now.

She was just about to take a shirt off the pegs when she heard a noise. As far as she knew, the sound seemed to come from Arizona's house, and Callie turned around slowly. "Arizona?" she whispered. Though, it came out sounding more like a hiss instead of a whisper.

Callie unlatched the fence between Arizona's house and hers. Moving closer to the figure sitting on Arizona's porch, Callie couldn't make out the woman's face as clearly due to the lack of light, but she could still see the familiar face. "It is you," she said curiously.

Seated on her porch step, Arizona was wiping her eyes when she looked up at Callie. She didn't say anything. As much as she liked Callie, Arizona wasn't in the right mind for company tonight. It had been a long day, and she figured tomorrow would only be longer. "Calliope," she said with a bit of surprise. The last thing she thought would happen was Callie finding her like this, in this state. In fact, it was the last thing she _wanted _to happen.

"Are you okay?" Callie asked quietly.

Arizona stared at the concrete of the sidewalk and then back at Callie's face which was still half-hidden by the darkness. The only source of light came from a street lamp and the moon and the stars. Arizona gave Callie a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine," she replied, scooting over on the porch step. "You…you can join me if you want," she found herself saying, despite not wanting company.

Callie hesitantly sat down, realizing she was doing more to help her insomnia than block it. But from looking at Arizona's puffy eyes, Callie could tell the woman was crying, and she wanted to help somehow. For a moment, there was only silence between them, and Callie didn't know how to fill it. "I wish I could have helped you clean up from dinner," Callie said slowly. She turned her head slightly towards Arizona's direction.

Arizona shook her head. "I managed just fine," she replied, forcing another smile and then a nod.

The soft darkness of the night left Callie feeling even more restless than before. "Look, Arizona," Callie started again, "I know it may not be my place, but it hurts to see you like this…and I want to know what's wrong. Did something happen after dinner?"

Arizona didn't say anything. Then, "I forgot…"

"Forgot what?"

A tear rolled down Arizona's cheek. "The entire day…I was so busy with dinner and everything and planning and Violet, and I forgot…forgot my brother's birthday,"

"I'm sure he'll understand if-,"

"He's dead,"

Pause. "I'm sorry,"

"Y-you don't have to be sorry," Arizona managed out before she turned her head away from Callie. She found herself covering her mouth with one hand and sobbing quietly. She thought she had done enough crying for a lifetime, but somehow, grief still left her feeling hollow…always. Some nights, she had many tears to shed. And some, she would have none. But the hollowness seemed to always find its way back to her.

Callie didn't know what to say, so she did what came natural: comfort. She put her arm around Arizona and let her cry onto her shoulder. When Arizona was left with nothing but sniffles and dried tears, she sat up again, even though she still wanted to stay in Callie's arms. The company of Callie turned out to actually make her feel better.

"He died in the second Great War. Tim. His name was Tim," she said, remembering the soldier's handing her father a flag and nothing else. No body. Just a flag. It had been about seven years since Tim died, but Arizona could remember his voice, his smile, his gentle laugh. But still, those memories were fading away. "I still miss him so much," she confessed.

"He's still with you, even in death," Callie told the other woman softly.

"Sometimes, I think he actually is. Like I can feel his presence near me," she replied, staring into space.

Callie didn't say anything. She had lost people in her life before, but she had never lost someone as close as a brother.

"I just…feel bad about forgetting, you know," Arizona continued, "Like if I forget everything about him, he would become…nonexistent…forever,"

Callie placed her hand gently on Arizona's forearm. "Arizona, that isn't true. You're allowed to let go but still remember the importance of him in your life. He will always exist in memory and spirit," She looked Arizona in the eye, even though Arizona wasn't looking back at her. She was just hoping to make the other woman feel better in some way.

"I'm still learning,"

"Aren't we all?"

"Thank you," Arizona replied, finally looking into Callie's eyes again. "This…means a lot. I-I didn't think anyone would care,"

"No problem," Callie replied. "I'm always here if you need to talk," She found herself moving her hand down Arizona's arm, wrapped her fingers around Arizona's hand, and gave it a slight squeeze.

Arizona looked up at the stars, imagining for a moment Tim was looking down on her. She didn't want to let go of Callie's hand, but when Callie pulled her hand away, she did too. Then, "Why are _you _up?"

"I couldn't sleep,"

"Why?"

"I don't know…just thinking I guess,"

"Well…I'm glad you found me,"

"Me too," Callie replied, smiling. Pause. "I should go though…I don't have the luxury of sleeping in tomorrow. My husband has to meet a patient, even on a Saturday morning. His clinic seems to be busy almost every day."

Arizona's smile fell for a moment. "Oh," she then added, "yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Part of her, though, wanted to spend the entire night with Callie, but she knew she too had to sleep as well.

Callie stood up, realizing she had just met her neighbor in her bathrobe and night gown. "Well…see you in the morning?"

"Of course," Arizona replied, smiling. She stood up as well.

"I'll have your dress ready to pick up. Did you want me to wash it?"

"No, it's okay. I can,"

"Great! Oh, and you can bring me back my honey since I don't think you will be using it in soups any time soon," Callie added and winked, knowing that Arizona never needed the honey in the first place.

Arizona blushed. "All right," she replied. She soon found herself wrapping her arms around the other woman in an embrace. "Thank you," she whispered.

Callie smiled as she held onto Arizona. She was glad that her limited experience could come to some use. "Like I said, it was no problem,"

Once they let go, Callie turned around and walked back to her house. The laundry had once again been abandoned, but it no longer seemed important. She opened the front door, locked it, and found herself admiring the way the moon shone in the night. How it seemed to shine perfectly between Arizona's house and hers.

* * *

**If you were expecting more than a hug *wink wink,* you might want to, well, stick around. ;)**


	10. Chapter 7: Heartbeats (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: Heartbeats**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: First off, I would like to thank all of you lovelies for reviewing! It honestly makes my day, and I'm glad to hear from anyone. Second off, this chapter...is intense like I promised. Heck, even I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest as I wrote this chapter. Hopefully you will all like it! :) And lastly, I would like to dedicate this chapter update to Victoria again because I love her to pieces! **

* * *

The following day, Arizona dressed herself in her favorite black polka-dot dress, made breakfast, and ate it while listening to her favorite morning radio station. She was rather pleased at how the kitchen looked after the busy night she had yesterday. Sure, the dishes had taken a while to wash, but at least she didn't have to do finish up any washing this morning. Besides, she had other plans in mind.

Violet was sitting in her make-shift booster seat next to her mother. The breakfast table seemed to always be a guarantee mess since Violet enjoyed spilling whatever she could, whether that be syrup or juice, and in the end, Arizona was left wiping down the table with a wet cloth. The three-year-old had gotten bored of her eggs—definitely not a reason though for them to be on the table instead of on the plate—but still forked cut-up pieces of sausage into her tiny mouth.

Arizona, who was drinking her coffee, looked up from the morning newspaper. "Guess where we're going today, Violet?"

"Wheereee?" Violet asked as she kicked her dangling feet in excitement.

"Remember to swallow first then talk, Vi," Arizona chided until the little girl finished the bite of sausage in her mouth. "You get to see Mark and George again today!" she announced, smiling. Although she knew the news wasn't the most exciting, Arizona wanted the morning planned to be somewhat more about Mark and George…and less about whom she couldn't stop thinking about.

"Oh no!"

"Why?" Arizona laughed, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"Mark and George are boys. Girls don't like boys,"

"Oh, Violet," she laughed, "some girls do. Some girls don't, I guess." Her daughter was indeed growing up yet still had more growing to do. She pinched Violet's chubby cheeks playfully before getting up from the table.

After breakfast, Arizona took the time to wash her daughter's face, dress Violet, and comb her daughter's hair. This Saturday seemed to be rather different. Most weekends were spent shopping or running errands with her husband, but today, her husband was running errands alone. Arizona had made up some excuse about cleaning the kitchen from last night's dinner. It wasn't that Arizona didn't _want _to go on errands because after all, weekend errands were one excuse to get out of the suburban neighborhood. It was just that Arizona had _other_ plans that may or may not include her most recent, and perhaps, only friend.

Last night with Callie had seemed like a blur, but from what she could remember, the little exchange had been…nice. It seemed impossible to find a trusted companion in a neighborhood where most women gossiped to pass the time.

She and Violet headed out the door after Arizona made sure to lock it. She slipped the house key into her clutch purse even though she knew where the spare one was in case she needed it. It did seem silly to do so much when she would only be next door.

But robbery seemed to be a trend these days ever since the Great Brinks Robbery of 1950 and Arizona didn't want to take her chances of having anything stolen. Although Arizona considered herself to be beyond the materialistic values, the last thing her husband needed was the house robbed. His company had been going through way too many financial problems, and she _was _worried, even though Mr. Robbins would rather have his wife worried about more…housewife-related things.

Violet's hair was in little pigtails, and she looked adorable while holding onto her mother's hand. Once the two walked up to Callie's doorstep, Arizona rang the doorbell.

Callie, who was busy folding the laundry, had been listening for a doorbell the entire morning. After setting down the shirt she was folding and standing up, Callie picked up her skirt as she ran downstairs to get the door. Even though she was tired from staying up late, she was having a relatively good morning. Mark and George had been playing upstairs while she folded the laundry. She was glad for the lazy Saturday morning, yet Callie wished she could spend her time doing something…more exciting perhaps.

But Arizona would be good company, and maybe that was all the excitement she would need for such a lazy Saturday morning. Callie opened the door.

"Hello, Arizona," she greeted.

"A hello to you as well, Callie," Arizona replied with a small smile on her face. She walked into the house, looking around even though she had been in the foyer many times before.

Mark and George crawled down the stairs, feet first. Even though the two seemed to have mastered the ability to walk, the stairs were still precarious territory. The little boys led a hesitant Violet to the living room. The living room was where a big box of toys stood.

Callie laughed at the sight before closing the front door. Although it wasn't sunny, the outside temperature was nice enough for it to cross Callie's mind. Mild spring days were far better than rainy ones. "It seems rather pleasant outside,"

"There's a slight breeze though," Arizona replied lamely, not really knowing where she was leading the conversation. She fiddled with the clasp on her clutch purse. It seemed that every time she even was with her neighbor, she either didn't know what to say or decided to say everything all at once. Pause. "Is your husband out?" Arizona asked Callie.

"Indeed. But if he were here, he would be plopped right in front of the living room television. That's exactly what he would be doing," Callie joked, "He had a patient like I said before,"

"Oh, right," Arizona nodded.

"Yours?"

"Pardon?"

"Your husband? Is he at home?"

"Oh, no, errands…he's running errands," Arizona finally managed, shifting her weight side to side.

Callie could sense some of the other woman's uneasiness and figured it was because of the night before. She knew that most people didn't like to let other people see them cry. "Well, I guess it's just us then," Callie laughed. She hadn't planned anything for the day, but she knew she was going to enjoy the Saturday.

* * *

The morning seemed to pass quickly, and Arizona was surprised at how fast the time could move when she was with the dark-haired woman. Arizona had shared lunch with her neighbor, and now, Mark and George were napping or trying to nap at least. Violet though had refused, so the three-year-old was sleepily watching afternoon cartoons. Arizona sat down on one of the kitchen barstools near the counter. Callie was leaning over the counter on the other side.

"So, anything fun to do in this neighborhood besides visit you?" Callie asked jokingly.

Arizona laughed. "Create a scandal, and you might end up in gossip if you're lucky,"

"Ooh…what kind of scandal?"

"Well, there's robbing a bank, committing adultery, posing in the nude-,"

"If only I had the body of Marilyn Monroe, oh please," Callie interrupted, laughing.

Arizona beamed. "You could always hang your undergarments up on a tree. It would be the talk of the century!"

"It sounds tempting," Callie joked. "Wow, everything is just so hard to choose…what should I do first?"

"Actually, murder sounds like a fantastic idea," Arizona added with a twinkle in her eye. It wasn't every day people found her funny.

Callie pursed her lips together. "I can see the headlines now. _Doctor's Wife: Murderer_," she joked, yet it came out sounding rather bitter. She looked down.

Arizona stared at Callie, studied her for a bit, and began to reply. She remembered the comment Callie had made during last night's dinner. Then, "You don't want to be a doctor's wife, right?"

The other woman didn't say anything.

Arizona continued, "You want to be a doctor?"

Callie looked up and bit her lip. Till now, her hopes and dreams were never acknowledged, not even by her parents. She could _want_ to be a doctor. She could _hope _to save lives. She could _dream_ to wear a white coat over her dress. But in the end and to the world, Callie was just a suburban housewife. "I still do," she confessed.

Arizona nodded. She too had thought about going into a career before, but she never got the time to think of being someone else. In this age, it seemed like her future was already decided. It seemed her fate was to be within the white picket fence…forever…when she wanted so badly to go outside.

"You're still young," she said kind of lamely.

"I know, Arizona," Callie replied after nodding her head, "but I have two kids. I have a husband and…household responsibilities. I…just have to face…it," Callie answered coolly, but she was anything but cool. She felt like yelling. But not at Arizona. But at the world.

Arizona looked down. "I still think it is possible. I like to believe in the possible…and miracles,"

Callie sighed softly. "It _would _be a miracle," Pause. "Would you like to see something?"

"What is it?" Arizona asked curiously.

Callie bent down and rummaged through the lower kitchen drawers. She pulled out a couple of medical magazines, a book, and a stethoscope.

Arizona smiled. "Oh, these are nice. Who gave it to you?"

"I stole it…well, took it from my husband,"

Arizona nodded, not even alarmed. She too kept things from her husband. "Is it how you study?"

"Kind of…just here and there. They're quite interesting actually,"

"I bet," Arizona replied smiling. She picked up the stethoscope from the kitchen counter. "I always wanted to see how this worked," she said as she tried to put the stethoscope on.

Callie, getting a bit excited, walked to the other side of the counter and stood close to Arizona. "Here, I'll show you," Callie took the stethoscope gently from Arizona's grasp. She inserted the ear pieces into her ears. "A lot of people think the heart is on the left side," Callie began, showing off her limited medical knowledge, "But it's actually right here—in the center." Callie placed the chest piece of the stethoscope on Arizona's heart. Even though part of Arizona's neckline of her dress muffled part of the sound, Callie could feel the woman's heart beating in her ears.

Arizona didn't know if she could even breathe if she tried. She could faintly feel the coolness of the chest piece. The brunette was so focused as if she were a real doctor. So Arizona breathed in and then out as if she was in an actual doctor's office and wondered if Callie could hear her heart flutter…and then she didn't…or at least tried not to think like that. She wasn't supposed to be thinking of Callie…in that way. For a moment, the two women made eye contact.

Callie could hear the faint noise of the television in the background, the chatter of some neighborhood kids walking by her house, and the sudden bark of a terrier. But in that moment, she could only focus on the periwinkle blue eyes of Arizona Robbins. Callie broke the gaze for a moment. "Uh…here, you can try now," she offered clumsily.

Arizona decided to stand up since Callie was slightly taller. After Callie helped Arizona adjust the ear pieces, Arizona took the chest piece in her hand and placed it on Callie's chest, trying to find the same place. Her heart. Then, "I hear it," she said gently as if any sudden noise would disturb the other woman's heartbeat.

"It feels so…real," Arizona stated as she looked back into Callie's eyes, her fingers still holding the chest piece in place. And then Arizona found herself looking down but not at the floor…but at Callie's lips instead. She imagined a stethoscope would no longer even be necessary in order to hear her heart pounding in her chest. She moved closer and closer to Callie's face. Arizona slowly sucked in a little bit of air before her nose brushed against Callie's.

Every thought in her brain was telling her to turn back in the other direction and start over and change paths and forget and stop, but with Callie's heart beating in Arizona's ears, it seemed too late…she closed her eyes….her lips slowly grazed against the other woman's. Then….Arizona's mouth was on the brunette's.

A soft moan escaped Callie's lips after all the anticipation. She found herself kissing Arizona back. Arizona let her hands fall loose as she used them to gently hold Callie's face. She could no longer hear Callie's heartbeat but felt as if she could hear her own instead. Although both had been hesitant, after the kiss, Arizona was left…breathless. She rested her forehead against Callie's. Arizona leaned forward to kiss Callie again.

But then, the two could hear a car motor coming up on the driveway. Callie turned her head, and Arizona's lips brushed up against the other woman's cheek instead. They broke away, and the stethoscope fell to the floor.

"Ummm," was all Callie could say as she looked around the room. She didn't know what would come first: her husband or her fainting. She could feel the room spinning around her. But somehow, she managed to put away the medical magazines and the book in their hidden place.

Arizona idly tried to figure out what to do with…anything. Her thoughts were spilling all over the kitchen counter.

"You should go," Callie said as her husband opened the back door.

"Calliope," Arizona started as she needed something to say. But she didn't know what to say. What was one supposed to say after something…like that?

Callie's husband dropped his bag on the kitchen floor. "Sorry, I missed lunch," he said, kissing Callie on the cheek. Then, "Arizona?" he started, "I didn't know you were stopping by?"

"I was just leaving," Arizona managed to get out before turning around. She looked towards Callie one last time as if she were silently communicating…what? Arizona still didn't know what she was trying to say.

Callie looked away.

* * *

Finally, with a half-asleep Violet on her hip, Arizona walked out of the house, fake smiles and all. She never even got back her dress. And Arizona never even gave back Callie's honey jar. Instead, they had stolen from each other. They had stolen one too many kisses from one another's lips. They had shared one too many breaths. There was still part of Arizona's exhaled air in Callie's body. The thought of it. The thought of it all was making Arizona dizzy with something she couldn't put her finger on.

And somewhere down on the kitchen floor laid a medical instrument, a stethoscope, a reminder.

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**How was that for a "more than a hug" scene? ;) Thanks for reading! **


	11. Chapter 8: Confusion (Callie)

**Chapter Title: Confusion**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: Here is the continuation! Please give feedback if you can. I really appreciate it! Just try to keep it more constructive if you do have criticism. Thanks! **

* * *

If it were possible to read minds, Callie imagined a headache-ridden mind-reader trying to read hers. It would be impossible. Callie's thoughts were travelling in all directions. Left. Right. Up. Down. Sideways. Backwards. She wanted to simply stop thinking, but she didn't know how. That too would be impossible. What...happened was perhaps the most impossible thing of all. But it happened. Callie could still feel each sensation of the kiss, Arizona's breath against her cheek, the other woman's heart still beating in Callie's ears.

It all happened. Somehow she had let it become...that kiss. Every bone in her body was telling her everything...was wrong. Inappropriate. And terribly sinful. But still, Callie found herself licking her lips as if she could still feel the presence of Arizona's mouth on hers. With the way her heart was pounding, Callie practically felt her rib cage would shatter underneath all the pressure. As if her rib cage would shatter if Arizona simply took a step towards her...or if someone even said her name "Arizona."

"Arizona?" she heard her husband start, "I didn't know you were stopping by?"

"I was just leaving," Arizona replied, looking down.

Callie felt her heart lurch at the sight of Arizona's facial expression. The blonde woman soon left carrying Violet out of the door. Callie felt helpless. She stared at her husband.

Realizing she should say something...to at least fill the silence, Callie asked mock-casually, "How was work?"

"Busy," her husband replied as he took off his coat, "I'm going to have to go back in the evening. A lot of sick patients, I suppose."

Callie nodded.

"Where are the boys? Sleeping?" he asked.

"Yes," Callie replied, "or at least as far as I know."

"Those boys should know by now that nap time means nap time," her husband replied, adding a chuckle.

Callie was staring blankly at the tiled floor. She looked up. "They are only toddlers,"

"I know," Callie's husband continued, "Did you thank Arizona for the dinner last night?"

"Yes," Callie looked away. It was like she couldn't look her husband in the eye when he said Arizona's name.

"Great," he replied with no emotion, "I'm exhausted. I'll be in the living room if you need me." He stole one last kiss from his wife, this time from her lips, before leaving the room. Callie held her breath, hoping that he couldn't somehow sense his lips weren't the last to be on hers.

Pause.

"Those dishes aren't going to clean themselves," he added, looking back at Callie pointedly.

Callie looked at the sink. The dishes weren't the only things she wished she could wash her mind. Scrub the thought of Arizona right out of her mind. But she could never. "I will,"

At last, her husband was out of sight but not out of mind. The thought of her husband stood right next to the thought of Arizona as if they were somehow intertwined. As if she knew she might end up hurting both...

But Callie felt like she could kind of breathe once again. She felt like maybe she could think again. Clearly . Directly. With purpose instead of the jumble of thoughts in her mind. She heard the static from the television in the other room while her husband turned the dial.

Everything had happened so fast. It practically left her wondering if anything happened at all...but she knew she couldn't think like that. She knew better than to think like that. Callie knew better than to rely on her imagination to cover up the truth. That was something she did too often to herself. Besides, lying to one's self is the worst type of lie of them all. Who can be trusted when one can't even trust one's self?

No, Callie wouldn't lie or pretend. It happened. The kiss happened. Arizona Robbins kissed her, and Callie...kissed her back. She could still imagine the warmth of Arizona's hand on her cheek.

"What are my old pair of stethoscopes doing on the floor?" A question interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" Callie looked up.

Her husband had come back from the living room, and he curiously bent down and picked up the medical instrument. "I remember looking for these all over. Where on earth did you find them?"

"The attic."

"Why were you up in the attic?" her husband asked, frowning.

"I was...uh...showing Arizona some of the old stuff the Petersons left before leaving," Callie answered, surprising herself at how easy it was to lie. But she could feel herself falling apart in her lie. She was falling apart in her life.

"How would these stethoscopes be in the attic?" her husband asked. He furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity, rather than in anger.

"I was moving boxes up there as well. It must have been lost for a while until the move," Callie replied quickly. She looked down and bit her lip. They knew each other. Even though their relationship was no longer the same, she knew him enough. She had loved him once to know that he knew her in return. Callie wouldn't be surprised if he could see through her lies, so she just hoped he would pretend not to notice. Too much had happened today, and the last thing she wanted was her husband to lecture her about her not-important dreams once again. He never understood. But Callie never thought she would want to hurt him in return. It was better he never find out about...anything.

Her husband dropped the subject and continued with what he initially came for. But first, he pocketed the pair of stethoscopes in his work bag. "Once Mark and George wake up, you should plan for an early dinner. Like I said, I'll be leaving for the clinic again soon, and I want a home-cooked meal anyways," he told her, "And are you all right?"

Callie forced a smile to appear on her face as she looked up. "Why? I'm perfectly all right. Why would you think that?" she replied, wiping her hands on her apron. She could feel her palms sweating already after everything that happened. The thought of him stopping and caring for her made her knees weak. What have I done? Callie thought as she felt a lump in her throat form.

"Well, you haven't even moved toward the sink after I told you to wash the dishes. Unless you're sick, I assume laziness has taken over you perhaps," he replied, looking away.

Callie felt her heart stutter for a moment, and even her fake smile fell. "I'll start soon," she replied, looking down again. These days, it seemed she made better eye contact with the floor than with her own husband. One day, she wished he could look her in the eye and tell her he cared about her as much as she cared about him...or at least she thought she did. Everything seemed like a blur now.

When Callie finally looked up, her husband had left the room again. She wiped her hands on her apron again before taking a step towards the kitchen. She turned on the faucet and let the cold water run over her hands. She could feel every chill throughout her entire body. And for some reason, the thought of Arizona was uncovered in her mind once again. Callie thought about the chills the other woman sent through her body. As if every touch had been fleeting. The warmth of Arizona's body leaving, but the longing, the wanting, the need for the other woman's touch...was still there. Arizona had held her in a way she thought wasn't possible in such a long time. As if Arizona knew exactly how to hold her gently but firmly. It wasn't right, for sure, yet she couldn't get herself anymore to say it was wrong. It happened, and that was all she knew.

Callie grabbed the sponge near the sink and was just about to wipe down a plate when she heard the doorbell ring once again. Her heart knew who it was immediately.

Seconds felt like hours as she heard her husband walk toward the front door, open it, and greet the uninvited guest. "Arizona?" she heard her husband start, "Did you forget something?"

"My dress," Arizona breathed, practically out of breath. The thought of Callie running through her head had made her exhausted perhaps.

"Oh, Callie forgot to give it to you?"

"No, I forgot to ask for it back," Arizona replied, her eyes wandering towards the kitchen. She could see a glimpse of Callie's dark hair.

"Right. Well, Callie's in the kitchen," he replied gruffly before turning back to his living room.

Arizona walked towards the kitchen hesitantly but longingly. She walked as if her feet knew the way to Callie even before her mind could figure everything out. She had left Violet napping back in the house with her husband, who was back from errands. Finally, her feet reached the doorway that led to the kitchen.

Callie was still near the sink, her hands underneath the water. She looked at Arizona helplessly.

She gasped as the water turned hot. Callie instantly removed her hands and turned off the faucet. Her hands were now more red than usual, and she half felt like laughing in complete disbelief. Complete disbelief at everything that happened.

Arizona moved closer to Callie and impulsively took Callie's hands. "Did the water burn you?" she asked slowly, looking down at Callie's hands. No reply. "Calliope, I want to talk," she found herself saying, her voice cracking towards the end.

"Keep your voice down," Callie hissed. She pulled her hands out of Arizona's grasp and held them near her sides.

Arizona backed away a tiny bit, feeling slightly hurt even though she expected it. She didn't know why, but there was a part of her that felt everything could simply change. With one kiss. Her common sense seemed to have checked out a while ago, and her heart wanted nothing more than Callie's lips on hers again.

Callie leaned over and tried to peek at the living room. The television was still on. She grabbed Arizona's wrist and pulled the woman near the powder room.

She closed the door quietly and leaned her back against it. "I want talk too...now just might not be-,"

Arizona cut her off and began to ramble. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. I think I was just caught up in the moment...and I like you...but I know this is wrong...but you look so beautiful...I...it's my fault. It's completely my fault..."

"Arizona...but I kissed you back," Callie said slowly.

Arizona looked Callie in the eye. Pause. "I-I don't know what this means," she confessed.

"Neither do I," Callie replied, looking down.

Arizona gently touched the sides of Callie's arms. She lifted Callie's chin slightly, so Calllie was looking into Arizona's periwinkle blue eyes. "We'll figure this out...together,"

Callie didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. Part of her felt guilty. The other part, relieved. And both parts felt... anxious.

She touched Arizona's hand which was on Callie's cheek. "Okay," she finally said. She could feel Arizona's breath near her cheek again.

Arizona found herself moving closer to Callie as if she was drawn to the woman. With no objection from Callie, Arizona kissed the other woman softly. The kiss lingered for a moment, Arizona not wanting to let go. "Okay," she echoed.

"Callie!" called a man.

Callie and Arizona looked at each other before Callie opened the door. She ran out of the kitchen in case her husband had the idea of coming into the kitchen. "What is it?" she asked.

"Is Arizona going to stay long again?" he asked curiously while staring at whatever afternoon special was running on TV.

"I was just about to give her dress back," Callie said before running upstairs.

Finally, Callie came back to the kitchen, out of breath, and handed the dress to Arizona. "Can we talk later?" she asked Arizona.

Arizona nodded, trying to suppress the smile about to form on her face. Even though this was complicated and impossible and scary, Arizona felt like things were finally working out. It said a lot about a person to know that life fit better together when it was falling apart. At least it felt like it was supposed to be falling apart. Arizona didn't know. All she knew was that Callie was the most beautiful woman she had ever met.

Soon, Arizona was out the door, feeling better than how she initially felt.

"The dishes?" her husband asked.

"Right away," Callie answered, returning to the kitchen. She lived in the time where women were supposed to know their place. But after today, Callie couldn't help thinking the only place she was meant to be was with Arizona...


	12. Chapter 9: Questions (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: Questions**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: I'm so sorry, everyone! It's been a long time since my last update. I thought summer was supposed to be when I could write all the time, but things happened. I got a job, and I went through a tough writer's block for a while where I didn't really write anything for a long time. It turns out I write the best when I'm not supposed to be writing in class. Who would have thought? So I apologize for the shorter chapter. I had a tough time writing it, and I even started over twice. It didn't go as planned for one thing. I guess I wanted Arizona to think about who she was a bit. But I still appreciate any feedback and comments that you guys have! Thanks for being patient! I hope to update again soon, but I probably shouldn't make too many promises. Sorry! **

* * *

Arizona held her breath as she sat on her sofa in her living room. Only for a second but it felt like an eternity. She held her breath because the thought of what she did came tumbling down through her entire system. And somehow, she wanted to make it stop. Callie. The kiss. Callie. The touch. Callie. The secret. The secret that they both held between them. The forbidden to be forever kept hidden. It was all very much overwhelming.

She let out her breath finally. It was Monday once again. Normally, Arizona would probably find herself back at her neighbor's house, since it seemed to be her new favorite past time. But things changed. Things changed after that Saturday afternoon. She couldn't get herself to go back there yet. For hours, she had been trying to give possible explanations for what happened. Was it just the rush of living in the moment? Was it just some random occurrence? Maybe she didn't get enough sleep the night before.

Arizona wanted it to be anything but what was true. Anything but the fact that she wasn't normal. _What's wrong with me? _Kissing another woman wasn't normal. _It had to be some…sort of impulse? _Even her thoughts stood as questions as she tried to explain her feelings. She told Callie they would figure it out together, and suddenly, Arizona felt guilty for making that promise. Could they really? Could they really figure it out together? How could the impossible suddenly become…possible?

Violet had been napping for about an hour now, and Arizona knew she should be using the time for something productive. Cooking. Cleaning. Or perhaps trying to knit once again. She needed to do something productive to take her mind off what was bothering her since Saturday afternoon. The clock ticked. She could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. But apart from that, the house was silent. And she felt more alone than ever. Part of her wanted to face her fears and head over to Callie's, but the fence she seemed to be able to cross so easily before…was more like a bars of a jail cell. Her mind was a prison, and Arizona kept echoing the same thoughts over and over again without any progress. Finally, she spoke out loud. "I'm not gay," she said, yet it came out sounding more like a question than a fact.

"Gay" was a forbidden word in society unless it were to describe a joyful event and such. But even then, "gay" was a word hidden beneath hushed whispers and raised eyebrows. She had heard rumors of women and men who found pleasure in others of their same sex. Would she one day become a rumor? Would she one day become part of the daily gossip? "I'm not gay," Arizona repeated. Again, a question. With no response except the silence that hung in the room like an empty picture frame.

Yesterday, her husband kissed her on the cheek, and all Arizona had thought about was the soft lips of Callie's. All Arizona could think about was the Callie's touch. That wasn't right. That wasn't supposed to right. Being gay wasn't right, right? Arizona closed her eyes and wished she could wish away what happened. She wished she could go back to the monotony of her lifestyle, the dullness of her picture perfect life, the straight-forward path of a 1950s housewife. She imagined Callie's face instead.

The doorbell rang. The sound startled Arizona half to death. She got up carefully and walked quickly to the doorbell. She noticed the familiar face looking out at her from the window. Callie. Arizona opened the door. "Callie," she whispered.

"Hi," Callie replied.

"What brings you here?" Arizona managed, finding herself suddenly breathless.

"I had to give you a message," Callie replied, stepping inside. She closed the door behind her. "I wanted to give you this yesterday, but your husband…but I'm here now."

Arizona didn't say anything. Instead, she watched Callie inch closer to her. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She swallowed, finding her throat suddenly dry.

"I like you," Callie started, "a lot."

"I like you too," It came out as a squeak because Callie's hands were on Arizona's shoulders. Callie's lips brushed against her neck. Arizona moaned softly as Callie placed gentle kisses on her skin. "Um, your message?"

Callie's face was inches away from Arizona's, and the two stared into each other eyes. Callie started, "I wanted to tell you…" but instead, she kissed Arizona's lips. Softly at first; and then Callie took more control of the kiss until the kiss took control of its own.

Arizona's eyes were closed as she enjoyed every sensation. Kissing Callie was like nothing she ever experienced before. It felt as if the entire universe was lit on fire, as if passion suddenly took on a whole new meaning. Arizona could feel a rush of warmth throughout her entire body. And despite everything, kissing Callie felt like the most normal thing in the world, at least in the moment.

A tap came from the window, and Arizona opened her eyes to find her husband staring back at her from the other side of the window. A new type of warmth rushed through her entire body, filled with embarrassment and shame. She felt her stomach drop three stories, and she knew that this would be the end of every bit of respect she worked years to earn. This would be the end of her.

* * *

Arizona woke up on her sofa, startled. She must have fallen asleep for ten minutes or so, and she sighed in relief. The last thing she needed was her fantasy-turned-nightmare to become reality. Maybe it wouldn't be that easy. Maybe it wouldn't be easy to one day know exactly who she was, but maybe that would be okay.

The shrill of the telephone filled the silence, and Arizona got up and walked over to the kitchen. She picked up the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello, this is Arizona Robbins,"

"Arizona,"

"Callie?" Arizona asked as she fiddled with the phone cord with her other hand.

"Well, I-I was going to come over, but I didn't know if it would be a good time or not. And besides, Mark and George are still sleeping. And I don't really know what I wanted to say, but I don't know. I figured we could…talk?" Callie ended her rambling with a question.

"Of course," Arizona answered, trying to sound more cheerful in some way. "I'm sorry,"

"What?"

"I'm sorry for making a mess of things. It's my entire fault," Arizona apologized, her voice feeling heavy. She was filled with such longing, but she knew in the end…how could it even work out? Arizona didn't even know how to process the situation, so how could she expect anyone else to do the same? They had to talk, but what would they even talk about?

The room was seemed to be filled with question marks, bouncing off the walls. Arizona knew Callie must be feeling the same way perhaps. Arizona still wanted to blame everything on some strange impulse that she had, but lying to herself would not solve any of her problems. The truth was that she had feelings for Callie. What kind of feelings? She didn't know. All she knew was that she liked her neighbor…a lot.

Callie cleared a throat after a momentary pause. "Arizona, I know this is complicated, but you shouldn't apologize. It's all right. Really,"

Arizona smiled and then realized Callie couldn't see her smile, so she replied, "That makes me feel better. Thanks,"

"We'll talk, okay?"

"Okay,"

And with that, Callie hung up the phone, and the wall clock chimed. Arizona's husband would be home soon. Right now, it was time to wake up her baby girl. The blonde woman walked upstairs and into the nursery where little Violet was sleeping. "Violet," Arizona said gently, "Time to wake up."

She kissed her daughter's cheek softly, and soon the little girl's eyelids fluttered open. "Good evening, sweetheart," Arizona greeted the sleepy three-year-old. "Did you have a good nap?"

Violet was still struggling to get accustomed to consciousness, so she looked at her mother blankly before Arizona picked up the little girl. Her daughter was getting to the point where she was almost too heavy to lift anymore, but there was a comfort in holding a child on her hip. And besides, Arizona didn't like the thought of Violet being all grown up already.

She bounced the three-year-old on her hip to the best of her ability and made her way back downstairs. But before walked down, Arizona caught a glimpse of herself in one of the hallway mirrors. Her hair was still a golden blonde styled in the fashionable bob. Her eyes were still a periwinkle-blue, and everything else was the same. She was still the same Arizona she always was. Violet too stared into the mirror, and Arizona began more-of-a-one-sided conversation with the little girl. "You know, Violet, people say you look like me a lot. Do you think that's true?" Arizona asked.

Violet didn't say anything as her mother carried her downstairs. When Arizona finally reached the bottom step, she let Violet get down, and the little girl ran off to find where she left her toys.

For a moment, the woman stood in place, an epiphany dawning on her. Arizona only heard about gay women a few times in her entire life, yet she had had thoughts about other women before, even before Callie. Callie wasn't the first woman Arizona felt a connection with. But "gay" never ran across her mind because she didn't fit the stereotype. Being manly never crossed her mind, so being gay seemed to be out of the question.

But the thing about stereotypes…was that they're stereotypes. She had gone far too long ignoring herself. She wasn't going to ignore herself anymore. "I'm gay," she whispered to herself. And it wasn't a question this time.


	13. Chapter 10: Lies (Callie)

**Chapter Title: Lies**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: A slightly quicker update? Perhaps. I'm trying to update at a quicker pace. This week was a bit hectic for me, but expect more '50 Calzona soon! :) It's going to get drama-rama soon, just as a warning! XD I'm starting to get more excited about this story again, so that's making me happy. It's going to be a crazy ride! (mostly for me if I don't update soon...aha ha ha) **

* * *

Tuesday morning soon arrived. And for the first time since the family arrived, her husband did not have to leave for work early in the morning. In fact, Dr. Torres had the morning off, and he indeed planned to spend it with his wife and two sons. Callie's mother always said it wasn't good that the boys' father be away for so long. _It's not a good environment for young boys_, she had said.

For breakfast, the little family had waffles with maple syrup. Mark and George were over-joyed to know they were allowed to devour the sticky treat for breakfast. They certainly must have known it was a special occasion since their father was home for once. Sitting on one of the breakfast table chairs, Callie was cutting up the square-shaped waffles for the boys when her husband came downstairs.

Ever since the unthinkable happened, Callie found it harder and harder to keep up a conversation with her husband. She swallowed nervously before turning her head. She could hear her conscience barking in her head every time she even looked at him. _How could I have made such a mistake? _But nonetheless, Callie presented her best "Good Morning" smile.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

"Good morning, Callie," he replied, smiling. "How did you sleep?" He stood behind Callie's chair and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I slept quite well," Callie answered. _Lie. _

"That's great. I hope the move isn't stressing you out too much," he answered as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. The man then pulled up another one of the kitchen chairs and sat down near Callie. The boys were in their highchairs. It seemed that Mark and George didn't have a good sleep either. Callie would know. She was the one who would wake in the middle of the night to the sound of one of them crying. And if one of them happened to cry, it would mean the other would soon burst into tears.

Twins happened to be double the pain but double the cuteness. But Callie didn't mind. Children were the least of her troubles. It was the adults that seemed to cause everything else. "I'm not stressed out," Callie answered. _Lie. _She continued cutting the waffles into pieces until she was finished. After she was finished, she drizzled a little bit of maple syrup over them and set the plates on the trays of the highchairs. She sat back down, her exhaustion showing after her "great night of sleep."

Callie's husband sighed and held Callie's hand. "Callie," he started gently.

Callie couldn't look at him. She couldn't get herself to look into his deep brown eyes and act normal. Everything was far from normal, but it was a mistake; a mistake that she would have to pay for deep in her conscience. But slowly, she turned her head.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I've been hard on you lately. I've just been so busy with the clinic and the move and…I'm sorry," he apologized, still looking at Callie's face.

For a moment, Callie could feel her heart breaking a little more. "I'm sorry too," she replied, thinking about her betrayal.

"For what?"

Callie hesitated. "For not being as happy as I should be. You've done so much for us. And I love this new house,"

"You do?" her husband asked, a small smile forming in his face. "I was worried you weren't happy here. I feel like I pressured you to move, but all I want is for you to be happy."

Here. Here was the man she fell in love with. Here was the man she had been looking for these past few months. The man who bought her flowers when he felt like it. The man who healed his patients with a smile on his face. A man who Callie had loved very much. But things had changed. Gradually, their relationship grew apart as work became much more of a part of her husband's life. If this had been another time, Callie would have adored her husband for saying such kind words. In this past week, things had changed, and she truly wished she could ignore everything and continue on with her life. "I am happy," Callie replied, forcing a smile. _Lie. _

Dr. Torres smiled and kissed his wife's hand. "I'm happy too," he said, glancing over at the boys, "Mark and George look happy as well." He laughed, standing up to get a washcloth. Carefully, he wiped Mark's mouth, which was sticky from syrup.

Callie didn't do anything or say anything. She simply sat in her chair, feeling completely terrible. Here her husband was being a loving husband and father. He apologized to her. He cared about her. But what could she do in return? Tell him that she kissed the neighbor's wife? Perhaps, it all had simply been a mistake, and she was too caught up in the moment to realize it was one.

"Callie?"

"What?" she asked, looking back.

With one hand, her husband grabbed George out of his chair. "Could you give me a hand? I think George is in a need of another diaper,"

Callie laughed. "You're a doctor, yet you still make a face whenever the topic comes up," she teased. She took George out of her husband's arms.

"Well, if my duty did involving changing babies all the time, I may as well be home," he replied, adjusting the bib on Mark's neck.

Bouncing George on her hip, Callie continued, joking, "And what if I gave _you_ the diaper duty?"

"Why would I need to? Isn't that what you're for?" he asked, laughing.

Callie's smile wavered for a second. "Right," Callie replied. She turned away and began to walk upstairs.

"Callie, wait," her husband said, stopping his wife in her steps, "did I say something wrong?"

"No," _Lie. _"I just need to change this diaper," she answered, adding a laugh.

Then, he leaned in and kissed his wife softly. "I just want us to go back to normal," he replied. "I don't want to be distant anymore. I'm trying,"

"I know," Callie found herself whispering. "I know," she repeated.

"Yesterday, I stopped by at the furniture store,"

"Really?" Callie asked, slightly surprised and curious. "Why?"

"You know why," he answered gently, his eyes twinkling slightly.

Callie's face broke into a genuine smile. "You really want to?"

"You said it yourself. We _need_ new furniture for the boys and for the house. I guess, what's a new house without new furniture?"

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed. She knew it was hard for him. Spending money had never been something her husband was too happy about. His schooling had left him with severe loans that still were yet to be paid off. Even a slight splurge like the house or new furniture was enough to make Callie feel grateful.

"I'll take you tomorrow morning. After breakfast," he announced, glad to see a smile on his wife's face.

"All right," Callie agreed. She looked up into her husband's eyes. Callie glanced at George who already started to make his fussy face. She laughed. "I better go upstairs. Make sure Mark doesn't try to get out of his high chair. He's been in habit of doing that lately," she told him before continuing with her way up the stairs.

She knew there were things she had to settle first before. She had called Arizona yesterday to talk, and yes, she and Arizona did have things to talk about. _It had all been a silly mistake made. Arizona and I are just friends. I love my husband. _

Callie began to hum a little song as she tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head saying "_Lies." _Sometimes believing in a lie was easier than dealing with the truth.

* * *

After she finished changing George's diaper, Callie headed back downstairs, feeling in a much better mood. She knew what she had to do. She knew what she had to say to Arizona, and although part of her didn't want to, telling Arizona would lift a huge weight off her shoulders. It would be better. Better for Arizona too, or at least that was what Callie thought

When she was at the bottom of the stairs, she noticed a piece of paper underneath her front door. She must have passed it before. Setting George down, Callie wondered what it was about. She bent over and picked it up. Carefully, she unfolded the pink piece of paper.

* * *

_Dear Calliope, _

_ I have no idea if you want to hear from me yet. You said you wanted to talk with me, but apart from that, I know nothing else. I want to talk to you too. I have been meaning to say a lot to you, but I think it would be best if I don't make any more surprise visits. I don't want to make this hard, but I do realize it's going to be hard to talk. I know you probably would rather not, even though you told me you wanted to. But please. Please talk to me. I know it isn't the best situation to be in. But I have feelings for you. I have feelings for you I can't possibly ignore. I think about you constantly, and I miss you, despite everything. I don't think I made a mistake. I want to make this work out somehow. I know it's naïve of me to think so. I know it isn't ideal. But you're so beautiful, and I felt the happiest while I was kissing you. You understand me, and I like to think I understand you. I know you're scared, but please. I'm begging of you to talk to me. _

_ So instead of my surprise visits, I thought we would meet at a certain time. In case meeting at my house would make you feel uncomfortable or something, I decided the park would be a great place to meet. We can meet around nine in the morning. I want to know how you feel. _

_ Sincerely yours, _

_ Arizona Robbins_

* * *

Callie sucked in her breath. She was not expecting this, and her heart sunk. _What am I going to do?_

"Callie?" her husband called.

Quickly, Callie crumpled up the note and hid it in her blouse. Her husband met her in the foyer; little Mark was on his shoulders, holding onto his "Da da."

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing her facial expression.

George grabbed her legs, wanting to be carried again. Callie lifted him back into her arms. She put on a smile. "Nothing," she answered.

_Lies. _

* * *

**Uh oh!**


	14. Chapter 11: The Park (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: The Park**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is obviously AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: I did update faster. Huzzah! So anyway, drama trauma! I hope you all like it or at least tolerate it until we get to the happy happy parts. Please review/comment/give feedback/clap your hands/shout hooray if you have anything to say! I do appreciate constructive criticism of course! :) Thanks for following! **

* * *

If there was one thing Arizona knew for certain, strollers must be God's greatest enemies. Even though Violet was almost four, going to the park meant pushing little Violet around in her little carriage of a stroller. Her legs were too long to fit inside, but Violet was small enough to pull her knees close to her and sit hunched over. Most little kids held on to stuffed animals or baby blankets, but Violet's most needed baby item was her little pink stroller with the roof over it.

In some ways, it was her comfort item. Arizona understood the need for a comfort item because besides, everyone needs to feel safe every now and then. But she never quite understood how anyone could feel safe in a too-small stroller that could easily tip over in a second. But since Arizona knew to play her role as the loving and understanding mother, she would agree to push Violet in the stroller from time to time, no matter the effort it took.

Maybe the effort of the stroller was the reason why the little family stopped visiting the park as often. That and probably the temperature outside. The warmer the weather got, the less it made Arizona want to venture beyond her white picket fence. It was rather ironic really, considering the fact that she normally would kill for freedom. She supposed freedom had nothing on dealing with humidity.

"Mama, where are we going?" Violet chirped from inside her stroller.

Arizona groaned a little, realizing that she would once again have to push the stroller up the longest up-hill climb in the neighborhood. "Violet, I told you where we're going," she answered, rather annoyed.

Violet stood up on her knees and looked at her mother, leaning against the back of the stroller.

"Violet, sit down. You're going to tip the stroller over," Arizona scolded, already feeling the burn in her legs as she pushed. And Violet turned herself around, knowing exactly where she and her mommy were headed.

Despite everything, the park was truly one of the best places in the neighborhood. Perhaps, the only good place in the neighborhood. Since it wasn't a weekend, the playground would stand rather empty compared to the weekend's crowdedness. Weekdays were the perfect time to visit the playground.

Arizona knew this wasn't just for Violet's sake, though the three-year-old was becoming quite bored these days at the home. Arizona knew that she needed to come to the playground. She needed to be able to have a conversation with her neighbor…her neighbor's wife.

Most people would assume she was simply having a pleasant conversation with Mrs. Torres. Perhaps, people would assume she was talking about gardening tips or cooking tips or, God forbid, the latest city fashion. How was one supposed to use saffron? Were hoop skirts finally coming back in style?

But no. The things Arizona had to say to Callie were far from pleasant. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but she knew it had to be done. And somehow, she still liked to think it would be worth it. She still liked to think she could hold onto her hope for just a bit.

Once Arizona finished her uphill battle, she could see the playground and the benches in the distance. She let out a breath of relief. She had borrowed her husband's pocket watch to make sure she was exactly on time. Well, not exactly. Arizona figured coming around ten minutes early wouldn't kill anyone. Besides, that would only mean more time for Violet to keep herself busy. She checked the pocket watch she put in the side of the stroller. She still had fifteen minutes until nine. She could only hope the morning would not go by too slowly.

"Mommy, mommy, let's go!" Violet exclaimed, not being able to contain her three-year-old excitement.

"All right, all right," Arizona laughed as she began to push the stroller once again. She vowed that she would make Violet walk the couple of blocks to the park next time around, but knowing how she enjoyed spoiling Violet, she doubted that would happen. Arizona smiled. No one said she couldn't enjoy herself while waiting for Callie.

Once Arizona found a suitable place to park the stroller, she helped Violet out, and soon Violet zoomed towards the playground. At first, Arizona had always been nervous around the playground. It seemed that most playgrounds were simply built for older kids. The slides always looked dangerous. See-saws seemed like accidents waiting to happen. And Arizona always pictured a helpless Violet being thrown off the merry-go-round. Playgrounds seemed to be every mother's living hell.

But how would Violet learn? Arizona knew that Violet had to fall to learn how to get back up. And besides, a perfect playground haven would probably not be as fun. So despite how much it worried Arizona, she just had to stand back and watch her daughter have fun. That was all the protection Violet would need.

"Mommy, watch me!" Violet had already found her way up the ladder to the slide. Without any hesitancy, she slid down with a huge grin on her face.

Arizona laughed and clapped her hands. "Good job, Vi!" she cheered before sitting down on one of the benches. In the bottom of the stroller, she had placed a bag which held their lunches. She didn't know how long the talk with Callie would last, but just in case, she was prepared.

Her eyes watched Violet explore the playground. But in her head, Arizona was rehearsing what she was going to tell Callie. She turned her head to survey how empty the street was. No one. So she figured talking out loud wouldn't hurt anything but her sanity. But even then, her sanity didn't have much safety in the first place.

"Callie, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I've stolen money from my parents before. I used to smoke with my friends in high school, and sometimes, I still do. And I like to run away from my problems. I'm not perfect…But kissing you was far from a mistake…I only want the taste of your lips again…I want to…" her voice trailed off.

Arizona found herself blushing, even though no one was there to hear her. _I sound like I'm trying to seduce her. _

"I never expected to be that type of woman, Calliope. I never expected to fall for your eyes, your smile, your laugh. This wasn't some sort of master plan to achieve the prettiest woman I've ever seen….and God, I'm not purposefully trying to flatter you into liking me back…I never expected to want you…to want to make this work…" she bit her lip.

_And if she asks how we're going to make this work, I won't know the answer. _

"Look, Calliope, I told you to come here because I need to talk. But I also need for you to talk. You need to talk to me. You need to tell me how you're feeling because I'm feeling kind of helpless here. I feel like I'm creating your responses in my head, but well, I don't even know what you think. Talk to me. Please,"

_Okay…that is if she's attracted to begging. _Arizona checked her pocket watch. It was five minutes past nine, and she was starting to worry. Of course she didn't expect Callie to gallop over to the playground to talk to her. She should have known she would have to be patient. After all, it had taken herself a while to get to the playground. And she only brought Violet. Bringing two boys as well would not be easy.

_Maybe I should have offered to help her…._

Arizona glanced over at her daughter. Violet was sitting on a bottom in the sandbox. Sand covered her little dress, and Arizona just knew that in no time, sand would travel to all sorts of places. In Violet's hair. In her shoes…tonight's bath would sure be interesting. But of all the places in the playground, the sandbox was the least of Arizona's worries.

* * *

It was a half hour past nine, and Callie was still nowhere in sight. Maybe Callie had woken up late. Maybe she was getting the boys ready right now. All Arizona wanted to do was to make up more excuses in her head. She would rather believe in anything but the truth. No, Callie _had _to come. Callie did promise her that they would talk. Arizona didn't know what to believe anymore.

* * *

Violet walked slowly over to Arizona. "I'm thirsty, Mommy," she whined, and Arizona gave Violet a sippy cup. It had been one hour past nine. As Violet drank from her sippy cup, Arizona sighed. She was starting to give up. This past week had been crazy, but it had been important to Arizona. All she ever wanted was to somehow escape her husband's control…to have some sort of sense of freedom. And in this past week, Callie seemed to have become more and more…that sense of freedom. As if Callie was Arizona's symbol of hope.

Yet Callie too was failing her.

* * *

Another fifteen minutes soon pasted, and at this point, even her own daughter didn't want to play in the playground. "Let's go home, Mommy," Violet suggested as she tried to crawl back into her stroller.

Arizona looked around. _She didn't come_, she thought. Somehow, being abandoned hurt even more than anything Callie might have said.

"Okay," she hesitated, feeling her voice break, "we can go." She lifted Violet back into the stroller, and Violet resumed her stroller position. The only people she had seen were a couple women Arizona didn't even know. Did Callie even care anymore?

Arizona let out a shaky breath. Maybe she just needed to fall down to learn how to get back up. Violet, Arizona, and the stroller travelled downhill easily, but although downhill was easier than uphill, Arizona could feel herself losing the control she once had.


	15. Chapter 12: Furniture Store (Callie)

**Chapter Title: Furniture Store**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: Oh, wow, this chapter was such a thrill to write. I could hear Callie's and Arizona's voices in my head. I told you I promised drama trauma, so here I delivered. Are you surprised I'm updating this fast? It's crazy, right? Honestly, the more feedback I get, the more I feel like writing. So please, leave a review if you can. Even if it's one line, I feel a lot happier and inspired to write, and I'll be able to update faster as well. I hope you enjoy the drama! Or at least try to! **

* * *

The smell of new furniture should have been enough to wake up her husband's wallet. But Callie's husband still was rather conservative with his whole furniture-buying approach.

"Look, I'm looking for two kid-sized beds for my sons, Mark and George," her husband said. Hearing their names, Mark and George soon toddled over to their father's legs. They pressed their backs against the legs and leaned. "Do you have anything their size?"he asked, looking frustrated already.

The salesman glanced uneasily at the other man, but as his job was to keep the customer satisfied, it meant he would have to smooth talk his way out of any potential situation. Callie knew her husband was probably the worst shopper in the history of customers. Sales and business were entirely different worlds to him compared to the medical one.

The salesman started to answer the question, "We do, of course, Mr-"

"Dr. Torres," her husband corrected.

"Right...if you are looking for good kid-sized beds, it would be beneficial if you increased your budget. I would be able to give more input into the selection I show you," the seller stated, trying not to make eye contact with Callie's husband for too long.

"I told you how much I'm willing to pay," her husband answered. Callie could tell he was tense from the cold glare he seemed to be giving to everyone.

By this point, Callie figured she would have to interfere. Usually she was the one who did all the shopping in the family, but whenever she went out with her husband, he much preferred himself to make the _big_ decisions. Callie didn't mind too much since they were only buying furniture. It wasn't a life or death situation they were bargaining for. But the last thing she needed was her husband yelling at her by the end of the morning.

"Why don't you start by showing us the selection of beds in our price range?" Callie asked the salesman. "Maybe we'll be able to adjust the price range a little if the quality of the beds suits to our liking,"

The salesman smiled stiffly. "Right this way then," he said, leading the little family into one of the showcase rooms. Mark and George, barely understanding anything, simply followed their parents. Perhaps they wouldn't even care what contraption they would sleep on, whether it be the floor, the bed, or the kitchen sink.

* * *

Once the push-and-pull of the bargaining worked out, Callie could sigh a breath of relief. As far as she could tell, Mark and George were happy with their new "big kid" beds, and if Mark and George were happy, Callie was happy. Her husband though was another matter entirely.

"How quick is the shipping?" Dr. Torres asked impatiently.

"Sir, but you didn't sign up for shipping," the salesman stated hesitantly, looking up from his paperwork.

"What? Of course I want shipping," he said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"You didn't check this little box by your signature," the salesman pointed out.

Dr. Torres leaned over the counter and glared at the little box being called into question. " How did you not even think I need shipping?"

"Sir, I'm simply following the paperwork-"

"Unless we drove up here in a moving van, I think it would be odd if we took two beds out of this store. Do other customers own moving vans? So you can easily assume they'll simply take the beds. Well, we don't. We own a regular good old car," he said, becoming tense once again.

"Sir...I must ask for some cooperation at least. The process is almost done,"

"Fine, check us off for shipping and whatever. The beds better be coming in less than a week," he compromised, glancing at Callie.

"Of course," the salesman agreed and continued to finish the paperwork under Dr. Torres's watchful eye.

Callie was too busy trying to ignore the situation. She had done her part of picking out the beds and calming her husband down. Besides, men considered buying and paperwork to be more of their jobs anyway, even if her husband barely knew anything about being a good shopper…

She admired a vase in one of the showcases while trying to keep a close eye on Mark and George. If one of the boys broke something in the store, Callie figured they all would be banished for life. If they were lucky, they would get a plaque put up above the front desk for "Worst Customers Ever."

* * *

After leaving the furniture store, Dr. Torres seemed to be in a much better mood. He even took his family out for lunch. Callie had been surprised to think she deserved such a treat, but she could agree that at least some celebration was in need. A new house...some new furniture...it was something to celebrate.

But even throughout lunch, her mind had wandered to her situation with Arizona. She couldn't help feeling terribly sorry for her neighbor, but feeling sorry was not enough to move herself to skip the buying furniture. Of course she felt bad. Of course she understood where Arizona was coming from. Of course she had said she wanted to talk. But it was a mistake...?

Callie's guilt was enough to make her not enjoy lunch as much as she should have. Her husband had taken her to her favorite diner, and she was eating her favorite meal. Her favorite waitress greeted them, and lunch had been cheaper than she thought it would be. But the twist in her gut made it feel like she couldn't possibly enjoy, let alone stomach, any of the food.

Her husband would be heading back to the clinic after the lunch, and after that, another morning off would be rare indeed. All Callie wanted was to relax her brain and calm her senses down. Even though she did think the kiss was a mistake, the thought of hurting Arizona was too much to bear. It made her feel like vomiting the lunch she had swallowed just a while ago.

The Torres' car pulled up into their driveway, and Callie held onto the skirt of her dress as she got out of the vehicle. Her eyes focused on the living room window of Arizona's house, in case the blonde decided to peek. Next, she helped Mark and George out of their car seats. And after that, Callie was good to go. She had the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening while her husband was away at work.

Callie lifted both Mark and George into her arms while they waved goodbye to their father. Dr. Torres smiled as he pulled out of the driveway again and vroomed off to the clinic. Once the sound of the engine was no longer in earshot, Callie looked around before heading inside her home. She fumbled with her purse before pulling out the house keys.

Once the front door was closed and she was inside, Callie set Mark and George down. The boys zoomed off to their living room to return back to their toy trucks. And Callie, exhausted from the busy morning, collapsed right onto her couch and weaved her fingers through her hair. _Maybe Arizona never came to the park either_, Callie thought, trying to reassure herself. _Maybe Arizona also realized the kiss was a mistake._

The doorbell rang. And for the first time in what had been a week, Callie didn't want to answer it. Mark and George looked up from their toy trucks and turned to their mother expectantly.

Callie sighed. She knew she had to answer the door because that was the right thing to do. It was just the "after answering the door" part that scared her. She didn't know what Arizona was going to tell her, but she knew it certainly wasn't going to be about returning the jar of honey.

As Callie turned the lock, she could already see the blonde hair of Arizona Robbins through the window next to the door. She tried to imagine what Arizona would tell her. Would she yell? Would she get angry? Most likely, and Callie didn't know how she could feel even worse than she did right now.

Callie slowly opened the door, letting it creak. "Hi," she sighed, not making eye contact with the woman in front of her.

"I…I tried to ring your doorbell in the morning…like around eleven or something. I rang it twice. I-I-I didn't know you were out…and then I saw your car pull up," Arizona stated, not being able to find the words she had planned. Her words had been so perfectly planned before, but now, it felt like her tongue didn't even know it could form them.

Callie nodded, looking at her shoes. "I bought furniture,"

"That's great," Arizona said, looking up. She tried to bring a smile to her lips, but it had become invisible.

Pause. Callie's gaze met Violet who was playing around with Arizona's skirt. Slowly, she raised her head upwards and started, "Look, if you want to yell at me, we should get the kids to-,"

"I'm not here to yell at here," Arizona interrupted, shaking her head.

"Then, why are you…here?" Callie asked.

"I came to apologize,"

Callie sucked in her breath. Somehow this reaction from Arizona was worse than yelling. "A-apologize…right. Right. Right. Because what you did wrong I shall not know. You…apologizing? I should be the one apologizing because I'm the asshole. I am! Y-y-ou know-"

"Callie," Arizona cut in.

"What?"

"Can I come in?" she asked, looking Callie in the eye.

Callie felt a bulge in her throat. Somehow in a matter of seconds, they had become…strangers? Granted, they had only met a week ago, but who would have known a week could feel like centuries? _Right. This is my fault. My fault_. "Of course you can come in," Callie answered, ushering Arizona and Violet inside.

"Violet, you can go to the living room with Mark and George," Arizona told her daughter, her hands gently pushing Violet towards the living room. Violet with her teddy bear in her arms walked into the living room, looking back at her mother as if she knew.

Callie didn't know what to say next. She led Arizona towards the dining room and pulled out two of the chairs: one for her and one for Arizona. They both sat down. Silence.

"What did you buy?" Arizona asked.

Not looking up from the dining table cloth, "Beds. For Mark and George,"

"Did you pick them out?"

Callie nodded. "They should be coming next week,"

Pause. Arizona stared at her hands in her lap. "I love furniture stores. I've always imagined they could be great hotels," she said, adding a laugh.

Callie finally looked up. "You know, we don't have to do this. We can ignore this ever happened and just get on with our lives,"

Arizona met Callie's eyes but looked away. She could feel her heart tear a little more. She knew she was always the more naïve one, the believer. "So…it didn't mean a-anything to you?"

"Arizona," Callie started, trying to backtrack her thoughts. She felt such discomfort in her chest…as if she no longer felt comfortable in her own body. "Arizona, I…I'm not a queer. I don't do this kind of thing-,"

"And I do?"

"I'm not saying that…I'm not saying that," Callie disagreed, "I like you. I do. You're…eccentric. But I'm not. I made my life. I have a husband…and my husband's a good man, Arizona. He is. And I-I have two kids…I can't do this,"

Arizona leaned in near Callie. "Look me in the eye…look me in the eye and tell me you think it was a mistake. And then I'll leave. I-I won't come bothering you ever again. J-just tell me that it was a mistake,"

Callie couldn't look Arizona in the eye. The last time she remembered looking into Arizona's eyes directly was right before they had kissed. She looked away. "It was a rush. A thrill or something. But it won't happen again,"

Arizona felt her breath catch in her throat, but she tried to suppress what she was feeling. She couldn't make Callie care. She couldn't make someone else do anything they didn't want to do. But it hurt. She felt something like an ache throughout her entire body. "With you, I feel like…I'm on Cloud Nine. I feel myself. I…I don't get to feel myself often. When I'm with other people, I feel like I'm a part….like I'm part of this plan…this master plan…the big picture…only a piece of the puzzle. But with you…with you, I feel whole. I feel…free…" her voice trailed off.

Callie never liked to hurt other people in any way. She had never been prone to violence even towards her sister, Aria, who was the sometimes-tolerable type. If she called someone a bad name, usually an apology would be the next thing coming out of her mouth. She knew the pain of being hurt. But this…this was different. How was she supposed to fix her feelings? How was she supposed to make this all better? Seeing Arizona hurt was the worst pain of all.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is," Callie begged.

"I guess a week isn't enough to know someone," Arizona replied with a bitter tone.

"I'm scared, Arizona! I'm scared! This….this whatever it is! It's a sin. What am I going to tell the priest at Confession this Sunday, hmm? That I kissed another woman? This…isn't right. And you know it too. I don't know who you are, but I'm not a queer,"

"I believe you mean 'not eccentric,'" Arizona replied, getting up from her chair.

"Arizona, wait," Callie called, getting up as well.

But Arizona had already pulled Violet from the living room and was headed for the door. She turned towards Callie just as she was about to turn the doorknob. "I told you I came here to apologize. I stick to my word. So yeah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made this hard for you or whatever. I'm sorry you have to deal with the pain of living a lie. You're living a lie, Calliope Torres, and I hope you understand that because while you're dreaming about saving lives, Dr. Torres, your husband, is actually doing that. It's not just me. I'm not your only problem,"

After lifting Violet onto her hip, Arizona walked out.

Callie, sitting back down on the chair, was left feeling like an empty furniture store. Her heart left barren.

* * *

**I'm not sure who I want to hug first. **


	16. Chapter 13: Neighbor Bear (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: Neighbor Bear**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: Hello! I just came back from Chicago yesterday night, so sorry for the gap in updating. But hey, I wrote this chapter in the car! I hate writing in the car, but I am willing to make sacrifices for you all. **

**First off, I have to apologize if I don't stay historically accurate all the time. I already warned you guys that I'm not writing a history book. I'm simply using the 1950s as the setting for the fic. The main story is Calzona, but I do try and research very hard to keep this as historically accurate as possible. I even researched 1950s dresses to find out what kind of zippers the dresses had! Yeah, I research like crazy mostly, but I make goofs. I will admit that. **

**But on a super super happier note, I love every person who reads this fic! You all make me super happy to hear from you about anything. I smile so big every time I hear from , and I just wanted to thank you so much! I would love if kept the feedback coming. Like I said before, the more feedback, the faster I update. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading! **

* * *

_You can't make someone want to be with you._

Arizona had been rocking back in Violet's rocking chair for what felt like hours but might have actually been a half hour perhaps. Violet, her eyes blinking with sleep, finally was able to lay down for an afternoon nap. She might not have been expecting the trip to their neighbor's house to visit the friendly woman her mother liked so much. But now, as her eyes slowly closed, it was nap time. She would wake once again in about two hours and begin another evening.

But too many years had passed for Arizona. Too many bland years. The rinse-and-repeat cycle of her life no longer had the same appeal as it had when she was younger. Tim had always said life was meant to be filled with thrills. Tim had always said that people were supposed to make something of their lives. It was why he joined the army. Sometimes Arizona wondered what Tim would think of her now. Even the slightest thought of him brought an ache to her chest. Arizona could still remember the sound of his voice when he told her he had enlisted. The memory of his voice vibrated against her eardrums from the inside out.

* * *

She had been 18 then. Fresh out of high school. Working her first and only job as a waitress at a local diner. For once in her life, she felt her life starting to separate a tiny bit from her parents'. She dreamed of getting out of the small town, travelling to a big city, and finding herself somehow. Her mother had brushed it off as mostly childish dreams, and a child was the last thing she wanted to be. But she still wore her hair in pigtails.

The diner required her to wear roller skates while on job. While it was a pain to balance plates while on wheels, she had figured it out enough to not want to quit the job already. Still, people like her brother found it ever so amusing to see her face plant.

"What will we be having today, Neighbor Bear?" she heard her brother's voice say from a distance. Arizona spun around, her face in a pinch.

Once she reached the corner table, her teeth gritted, her face red, and her hair still in pigtails, she confronted her brother. Tim, grinning widely, enjoyed the occasional teasing of his sister. Of course, if anyone else were to pick on his baby sister, his fists would be put to good use. But he was Arizona's big brother. And like in all sibling relationships, teasing should be expected.

"This is the second time you brought Neighbor Bear to my work. Stop it!" Arizona demanded. She hated whenever Tim tried to go out of his way to embarrass. Sure, her co-workers didn't care enough about her to bring up her annoying brother, but the possibility of being mocked because of Neighbor Bear was not a fun one to consider.

"But we're still hungry," Tim laughed.

"Leave,"

"Arizona, I thought the customer was always first,"

"The customer is always first, but you happen to be my silly brother,"

"Silly? Really? I'm not the one who still keeps a teddy bear on her bed."

"He happens to be a keepsake,"

Tim's smile faded. "Oh, right, I understand. Yeah, if you want, I can ask Mother for your baby bottle," he joked, his smile returning, "And you can probably use that too and bring it to work!"

Arizona began to swat her brother with the dish towel she had also been holding. "Tim, I'm working," she groaned.

"I'll leave but first, have water with me," Normally, one would be invited to have coffee, but since the rations happened, coffee became a luxury, too much for the diner to afford. Besides, water didn't have to cost anything at all.

"Did you hear me properly? I said I am working,"

"Neighbor Bear and I can wait,"

Arizona rolled her eyes. "Okay, but do me a favor and don't take him out of my room ever again,"

"All right," Tim agreed, "but no promises!"

* * *

Once Arizona finished her shift, she joined Tim back at the booth. It was nice to be back on solid ground and save her from the chance of her falling on her face in front of Tim. She slid into the red booth across from Tim. A stuffed bear was seated next to her, but this time she couldn't help laughing

"Why all this? Did Father let you off work early?" Arizona asked. After Tim finished high school, he had been a fortunate soul and found work with their father. After their father honorably discharged from the army after The First Great War, the army never really left him entirely. He liked to say the army flew through the bloodstream until the day he would die. So when the second world war started, he opened up a factory to make bullets to send to Europe even when America wasn't officially part of the war.

Tim stared at her affectionately. "Can't I see my baby sister one more time?"

Arizona frowned, her hands brushing up against Neighbor Bear. She longed for the past childhood comfort her teddy bear brought her. From the gut feeling in her stomach, she knew this wasn't going to be good. "Tim, what are you saying?"

"Arizona," Tim started, leaning in, "I'm joining the war."

"Is this part of your joke?"

"No-"

"You can't, Tim. It's not safe-"

"Nothing is safe about war,"

Arizona stayed quiet for a moment. She felt this silent fury build in her chest, but she knew in the end nothing would convince her brother otherwise. "The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. The U.S.S Arizona no longer exists and is only dust now. My ship. My ship no longer exists-"

"And that's exactly why I am going,"

"I don't want you to go-"

"I don't care about what you want," Tim cut in, scowling. Arizona could sense the familiar stubbornness that he would show her now and then. Her mother always said Arizona was stubborn because of her brother. It didn't make for any friendly sibling fights.

"Arizona, I didn't mean that," Tim started again, relaxing the pinch of his eyebrows. "I have to do this."

"Tell me the truth. Did Father get you to do this?"

"Father didn't get me to do anything. I've been wanting to do this since forever, Arizona,"

Arizona swallowed. That was it. That was all the fight she could give because her brother was going to war. And all she wanted to do now was to hug him. Two tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. "Please don't," she finally begged.

"Listen, kid-"

"Don't call me kid. I'm not a kid."

"Neighbor Bear still thinks you're a kid," Tim replied, smirking.

Arizona couldn't help but bring a small smile to her lips, her lips forming an almost pout. She smiled a little through her tears. "You were saying,"

Tim grew serious once more. "Listen, Arizona, my dear sister, if you want to make something of your life, you need to make something out of yourself. You have to become someone strong. And I need to join the war,"

"Will you take me with you?" she asked, not really meaning her question. She could see the determined look in his eyes. Tim was going to join the army and be a soldier, and Arizona knew she couldn't do anything about it. She just had to support him.

"Depends. Bring the bear and we'll see if I take you too," Tim joked, his eyes twinkling as he laughed.

"I'm going to miss you," Arizona said softly.

"You better," Tim replied, but from the look on his face, he would miss Arizona too. "Let's go home, Arizona. You need to help me tell Mother."

"You haven't told Mother yet?"

"Not until I told you,"

* * *

Arizona stopped rocking in the chair. She always thought about Tim when she was hurting like she was right now. _You can't make someone want to be with you_, she repeated in her head. But the words didn't bring her much comfort. She still thought about Callie and the words Callie called her. It seemed like a helpless situation.

Violet was asleep by now, and Arizona got up from the rocking chair and tiptoed out of the room. She wanted to make something out of herself, but it always felt like she was walking in place. Once again, she felt chained to the title people called her: a housewife.

She couldn't stop replaying in her head every sentence Callie had spoken to her.

_I don't know who you are._

You're eccentric.

I'm not a queer.

Had it been true? Had it all been impossibly true? Or possibly true? Because she had to expect the fact that the world wasn't always sunshine and happiness. She should have expected that things weren't going to work. She should have expected to have her heart broken in two. But who would want to expect that...?

* * *

Arizona had just gotten started on the dishes when she heard her husband pull up in his car. The garage door opened, and Arizona looked back at the familiar face of the man she thought she loved. She didn't know what she saw in him long ago. In her head, he seemed to just match her mother's ideal man. Arizona always wondered what would have happened if she ended it before anything serious could happen. But after a while, things just became convenient. Convenience was such a bland concept.

Her husband too had fought in World War II. He was a few years older than Tim and never had the wish to go into combat. The draft forced him to fight once America joined the war. Everyone told Arizona how proud she must be to have such a brave husband. But secretly, Arizona would never be as proud of her husband. Secretly, she knew he was a coward. Secretly, she pushed memories far back in her head…memories she never wanted to recollect ever again. She had enough hurt for now.

"Aren't you going to greet me?" Mr. Robbins asked, setting down his briefcase.

"Oh, right," Arizona replied, taking her hands out of the sink and wiping them on a towel. She walked towards her husband and habitually kissed him on the cheek. _Callie._ "Hello. How are you?"

"Great actually. The company has been doing better than before," her husband replied, letting a small smile appear on his usually stern face.

"That's good news," Arizona replied lamely. _Callie._

"It is great news, Arizona," her husband corrected, laughing a little as he took off his shoes.  
"You know, we might be able to get you that new car after all,"

Arizona forced a big smile. "Oh really?" Callie. Arizona breathed, realizing she needed to act some. _Callie._

"Yes," her husband answered, smiling.

"I can't wait to drive it," she said. She did actual think about driving a car. In high school, a couple of her friends taught her how to steer the wheel, but she never did own a car. Her family hadn't enough money to afford one. But the thought of owning a car only crossed her mind for a moment. She always seemed to come back to that one name.

"What are you thinking?" her husband asked curiously.

_Callie. _"How nice it would be to own a car," Arizona lied.

"Don't get too excited. You might not be able to get it until later,"

Arizona nodded, and after that, the two barely had any more to say. Over the years, the conversation seemed to diminish. Soon it would be time to wake up Violet. And then Arizona would have to make dinner. And then sleep. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

* * *

Night soon came along, and Arizona lied in bed. Her husband had gone to his office to finish up some paperwork. Her husband had said it had to do with something about his company's tax returns, but she had only been half-listening. The lamp on the nightstand was lit, and a book sat on top of the covers for her to read.

But every time her eyes wandered to the page, her mind wandered back to thinking about Callie. She knew that everything she ever felt before was false hope. She knew she was naive to think...anything could ever happen. She enjoyed living in a dream a little too much. She never expected to face plant onto reality. It was her fault mostly. She couldn't blame Callie like she had told herself before. But it still hurt. As much as Arizona knew she should, she didn't want to let go.

Arizona thought about waiting for Callie at the park. She thought about wishing for something that was more than her life she had now. Arizona never thought she would fall for women. She never thought she would be this...unhappy. She wondered what Tim would say.

He would probably say something like follow your dreams or something idealistic like that. But would Tim support her? And for once in a long time, she missed her brother more than she ever did before.

Her husband walked into the room, giving Arizona a startle. "Arizona, you're crying?" He acknowledged. He stood at a slight distance away from Arizona, not moving to comfort her.

"Yeah...yeah...this book is really sad," Arizona replied, wiping her tears.

"Why?"

Her husband's question surprised her because she didn't think he really cared. She could see it in his eyes. The way he regarded her…yet her lie had already grown this far, so she spun the tale a little bit more. "Well," Arizona started, "It's about a princess...a young princess...who falls in love...with the enemy's son. The enemy is part of the other kingdom...and she knows she can't have him. And he doesn't want her…"

"Well, why doesn't she just forget about him?"

"I wish it were that easy..."

"What?"

"It's not that easy...for her,"

Her husband nodded even though he had only been half-listening. "Are you going to go to bed? Because-" he asked before he headed to the closet to change to his pajamas.

"I can go downstairs," Arizona replied, taking the covers off herself. She was wearing a white night gown, but it looked like she wouldn't sleep any time soon.

* * *

Arizona reached the bottom step of the stairs and turned on one of the lamps. She plopped down on the chair after setting her book on the coffee table. She stared into space, wondering if her situation would be better if she never met Callie. If they had never met, they would be two strangers, living very two similar fenced-in lives.

But somehow things became better when she met Callie. Arizona had felt better...happier until reality had set in.

Then, a knock. Someone was knocking on the door. She had heard about midnight burglaries before where thieves would sneak in and steal. But she didn't think a _thief _would knock on her front door.

Arizona almost felt the urge to jump out of her chair. Quickly, she got up to checked the front door.

Not being able to see who it was through the window, Arizona slowly unlocked the front door and swung it open. "Callie," she breathed. The walls she had been carefully putting up around her heart seemed to have fallen apart in a matter of second. Here was the woman she couldn't stop thinking about. Here was the woman who hurt her. Here was the woman who went against her reality. Here was the woman of her dreams.

"I didn't think it would be a good idea to ring the doorbell at this time of night,"

"What are you doing here?" Arizona asked, finding a sudden hardness to her voice as if her brain automatically knew how much the other woman hurt her from before.

"Can I come in?"

"Fine," Arizona replied, stepping aside to let Callie in.

For a moment, the two were only silent. Arizona started, "I think you didn't-"

"It was a thrill. A rush. An unexpected moment. But Arizona, I can't say it! I can't say it was a mistake anymore. If I did, I would be lying," Callie confessed. She had spent the entire evening in thought and finally came to this one conclusion. The one conclusion that scared her more than anything else did before.

Arizona felt her breath catch in her throat. She took in what Callie was saying as she closed the door. And as soon as the click of the front door shutting was heard, Callie's lips found Arizona's once again.

Callie held Arizona's face gently in her hands. With each kiss, Arizona was pushed back towards the back of the door, and despite everything, Arizona didn't want it to stop. For a moment, she wondered what someone would think if she saw her then. She wondered what Tim would say. Perhaps it didn't matter. Arizona had lived in an unhappy marriage and in an unhappy world for too long to know that happiness was something to strive for. Was it too selfish to want to be happy…for once?

She put her arms around Callie and smiled into the kiss. After all, maybe Callie was just being a good neighbor.

* * *

**What did you think? Is this a good length for a chapter? I know you guys have been asking for longer chapters, so I've been trying hard to increase the word count in each one. This is my longest chapter yet! **

**Did you like the flashback? If you did, tell me. I would love to include more flashbacks and stuff like that later on. **


	17. Chapter 14: Quicksand (Callie)

**Chapter Title: Quicksand**

**POV: Callie**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: First off, thank you so much for reviewing for those who did! Heck, thank you for following and favoriting and existing! I really appreciate whatever you guys have to say, and I'm happy to receive constructive criticism as well. This chapter was a bit hard to write, but once I got the hang of it, it was easier. So please give me feedback and let me know what you think will happen. I actually do enjoy when you guys hypothesize what will happen. It makes updating a lot more fun, and who knows? I might take someone's idea into account while writing. Love you all! **

**Also, I do like paralleling some of the storylines with the storylines that happened on the show, but they are of course completely different overall. I also like using bits of dialogue from the show as well, but I make it my own. Just for this particular chapter, I use a lot of bits of dialogue from the show. **

* * *

Callie had always been enchanted by romantic stories. In her younger years, she had read it all from Shakespearean tragedies to Jane Austen fantasies. She knew all about Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. She knew all about Cleopatra's interesting romantic life. She knew all about Romeo and Juliet. She knew all about the forbidden and its allure. Romance has never been too kind.

She was seated next to Arizona on the living room couch. They both were in night gowns. Arizona's white. And Callie's pink. Neither of them spoke a word.

Arizona had her hands folded neatly in her lap, and she wouldn't make eye contact with Callie. Callie wanted to ask Arizona what she was thinking, but she couldn't get the words to form in her mouth. All they both could hear was the refrigerator's hum and the tick tock of the wall clock

But in that moment, when she gazed at Arizona's lovely face, forbidden was the last word she thought of. Instead she thought of other ones: perfection, enchanting, beautiful...but never forbidden. It was funny how the way the world worked. No, in fact it was darn right hilarious. And if Callie didn't feel like crying, she figured she would burst out laughing.

Perhaps, she thought, I have gone absolutely mad. When she was ten, a distant uncle had been sent to an insane asylum. At night, her father would sometimes tell her stories about the mad people who lived there. There was a man who wandered around the hallways thinking he was a house fly. A woman in the asylum swore the world was simply a dream. Another man never got out of bed because he feared the floor was quicksand.

Callie looked at the floor. It did feel like the world-her world-was slipping through the cracks. It did feel like she needed to grab something-anything-in order to stop herself from falling through. Her father told her the people in the asylum had lost sight of God and that was the reason for their insanity. Would God ever forgive her for her sins? Every vessel in her body begged for Him to do so, but how could she ask Him for forgiveness when she couldn't even forgive herself.

She didn't even know how to begin. How could she even begin to start talking...about anything? Even conversation felt forbidden. She wanted to know what Arizona was thinking. The kiss never was actually a mistake. She knew that now. A mistake was putting salt instead of sugar in the cookie dough batter. A mistake was writing down the wrong time for an appointment. A mistake was accidentally breaking her mother's favorite vase like she did when she was seven.

Kissing Arizona was a decision, a choice, a want...a necessity. Arizona was the one person in her life who believed in her with a kind heart and gentle smile. Her parents, sister, and even husband didn't seem to think her dreams mattered.

She thought back to last week when she first met Arizona. It was the little things that drew Callie in. Arizona had seemed to listen to every word Callie said so intently. She could have read out loud from the phone book, and Callie figured she would still get the same amount of attention. Arizona made her laugh and talked to her instead of talking at her. She loved everything about the woman and wanted to get to know her more.

As much as she cared for her husband, he often left her feeling worthless, helpless, and tired. A spouse wasn't supposed to make her feel that way, right? A spouse was supposed to make her feel like she was special, the only one. Instead, "only one" felt more like an assumption rather than a guarantee.

She glanced at Arizona who seemed to still be deep in thought. The events of the day had left both of the women feeling exhausted, and if it would have been appropriate, they might as well share the couch as a bed.

Callie cleared her throat. "Arizona," she started. Arizona turned her head towards Callie. Callie continued, "Uh there's a full moon out tonight."

Arizona nodded curiously. "I saw,"

"I hope you're not a werewolf," Callie joked, laughing slightly.

Arizona giggled. "You'll never know for sure," she said, playing along.

"I don't actually believe in werewolves, you know,"

Arizona smiled. "You haven't met the other women in this neighborhood yet. If you did, you might as well believe in werewolves too," she laughed, feeling herself relax a bit more.

Callie returned Arizona's laugh. She couldn't take her eyes off the other woman's face, her eyes, her smile. "You're smile...is like magic,"

Arizona blushed. "I suppose you believe in magic but not werewolves," she teased. She found herself looking down at the floor instead of at Callie.

"I'm just a woman of many beliefs," Callie replied, her eyes twinkling.

"Do you regret it?" Arizona blurted out.

"Regret what?"

Arizona didn't say anything, but she turned her body towards Callie more. Callie took it as a chance to hold onto both of the other woman's hands. "Is something wrong?" she asked, worried for a moment.

"Do you regret kissing me?" Arizona repeated slowly.

Callie hesitated for a moment but shook her head. "No, I don't,"

Arizona looked away and took her hands out of Callie's grip.

"Arizona?" Callie called, "What's wrong? What did I say wrong?"

Arizona looked back at Callie, feeling deflated. She sighed. "I can't do this, Callie,"

Callie felt the walls of her heart slowly begin to crumble. "Do what?"

"Hope. I can't hope anymore," she replied, shaking her head.

Callie was overwhelmed with a deep sense of helplessness. "But I came here...I told you it's not a mistake. I have feelings for you, Arizona. I-tell me what I did wrong," she begged, reaching for Arizona's hands again. Her fingers held onto Arizona's, but it felt like Arizona was letting go.

"You hesitated. I asked you if you regretted it, and you hesitated-"

"I was thinking-"

"Yeah, I was thinking too. This entire day I was thinking about only you. You, Callie! I replayed the entire conversation we had in my head, taking in each insult...every comment you said to me-"

"I didn't mean to insult you," Callie defended.

Arizona shook her head. "I can't try this with you if you don't even know if you want me too," she whispered, her voice ending in a hush.

Callie didn't know what to say. Perhaps she had been silly to think Arizona would forgive her so readily. Arizona was right. Callie didn't know what she wanted. She only knew what she felt, and even then, it had been so easy to lie to herself.

"My entire life has been filled with hesitation, regret, doubt...I don't want that...do you?" Arizona asked, finally letting go of Callie's hands.

"This is hard for me, Arizona," Callie replied. She could feel two tears form in the corner of her eyes.

Arizona's eyes saddened as she looked back at Callie. She stroked the other woman's cheeks softly, using her thumbs to wipe away Callie's tears. "This is hard enough without the doubt...I don't want to be your burden. It's okay. Things can go back to normal without me," Arizona whispered, trying to comfort Callie. It had to be the best for Callie in order to be happy. Arizona didn't want to push Callie. She felt as if Callie didn't want her, and Arizona was going to push. Her mantra of the day repeated in her head once again.

Arizona's words only made Callie cry harder. Normal. She remembered wanting that before. But now, in this moment, the word made her fear more than want. "We can keep going," she begged finally. She didn't think this would end before it had even begun.

"But I don't know where we're going, Callie. And I don't want to find out if you aren't certain you want me too. I can't make you change," Arizona replied, her hands holding Callie's face. Without thinking, she kissed Callie deeply as if the kiss was her way of saying goodbye.

Callie leaned her forehead against Arizona's. "What are we going to do now?" Her heart felt heavy while her head felt dizzy. Her chin rested on top of Arizona's shoulder as they embraced.

"We'll see each other around the neighborhood," Arizona answered, her voice cracking as she did.

Callie held onto Arizona tightly, not wanting to let go. "I'm so sorry," she cried quietly.

"Me too," Arizona agreed, closing her eyelids as she held onto Callie. "I wish things could be different...for us," A part of Arizona wanted nothing more than to take all her words back and say she wanted to start over with Callie. But it wasn't that easy. It wasn't that simple.

The clock struck eleven, and Arizona finally let go. She couldn't get herself to look at Callie anymore. It had all been too much for one day.

"You should go now," Arizona suggested, standing up from the couch.

Callie stood up as well, wiping her tears with the palms of her hands. "Yeah, it's pretty late,"

The two walked over to the front door rather slowly, a new found distance between them. "I guess this is good night," Callie said as she stood by the door. Or _good bye_, she thought, feeling saddened once again.

"Good night," Arizona echoed as Callie walked out. Once Callie crossed the white picket fence into her own front yard, Arizona closed the front door. _I wish_, she thought and then stopped because it already seemed too late.

* * *

The next day, Callie got up early to put the laundry out to dry. For now, she did her best to forget about the events of yesterday as best as she could. Granted, it was hard, but it was for the best.

Callie headed over to the two trees in the front of her yard. She had been lucky enough to have found a house that had two trees in the front yard. It was a perfect place to hang the wet laundry out to dry. Of course, it would also mean her laundry would be practically presented to the rest of the neighborhood if someone were to walk by.

For the most part, most people didn't spend much time outdoors unless they happened to be under the age of thirteen, wanting to exercise, or heading to the park. Most people preferred driving around in cars. It was rather a shame.

Callie began to pick out pieces of clothing from the laundry basket. She hung up her husband's favorite long-sleeved shirt to dry. Then, Mark's pajamas that he happened to spill a lot of maple syrup on. A couple more shirts. One of her blouses. A dress. Near the bottom of her basket, there was one of her girdles.

Girdles. It was such an ugly word. Somehow, they were the ideal contraption to make women look curvier. Looking skinny was pretty much frowned upon in the fashion world. How was one supposed to become Marilyn Monroe with only skin and bones?

But if she had her way, Callie wished she could stop the fashion world from dictating how a woman's body should be.

Just then, the front door of Arizona's house opened. _Please don't be Arizona. Please don't be Arizona, _Callie begged, not wanting to deal with…Arizona Robbins walked out of her house normally…and then hesitantly as soon as she saw Callie. But she continued walking across her driveway until she reached her mailbox.

She caught Callie staring, and Callie looked away. "Good morning, Callie," Arizona said as she handled her mail, but it came out in a whisper. She sighed softly before walking back to her house and closing the door.

Callie sighed in relief once Arizona was out of sight. She went back into hanging up her girdle on the clothing line before realizing she had been holding up her undergarments for Arizona to see the entire time. She blushed.

* * *

Three days passed and it was Monday yet again. Dr. Torres had already left for the clinic bright and early, and the house felt rather alone. Since Mark and George had found toys to amuse themselves, she kneeled down besides her television to watch whatever TV show was on. She turned the dial slightly. Only static. She turned the dial again. A commercial. Again. A public service announcement. Again. A sit-com. Callie sat down on her couch. It no longer seemed funny. She did not laugh. She couldn't. She didn't know what else to do.

She knew Arizona was in the house next to her. She knew Arizona was probably not too busy as well. And knowing that Arizona was there but could not be with her…hurt. The week was going by too slowly, and yet it was only Monday.

* * *

Friday came along rather slowly, but when it did, Callie felt much more at ease. She would be able to enjoy or try to enjoy the company of her husband in the evening for dinner. When the evening time came along, Callie had cooked the usual meat and vegetables, but her husband didn't seem to mind. He seemed to like the food more than he liked the idea of conversation.

But bothered by the silence, Callie spoke up. "How are your patients?"

"Good," her husband replied.

_Descriptive. _"Any interesting cases?"

"Not today. More of the regular 'cold and cough' ones,"

"Oh,"

"What did you do?"

"I cleaned and tried baking," Callie replied, trying to make her day sound more exciting, "I made muffins for breakfast tomorrow."

"Great," her husband replied in between bites, "How's Arizona?"

"I wouldn't know, "

"Didn't you invite her over?"

"No,"

"Any reason?"

"No," Callie lied. For a second, she wondered if her husband knew somehow. "we just haven't…talked."

"I was under the impression you rather liked her,"

* * *

Another week passed, and finally the most exciting thing happened to her. Well, "exciting" was indeed a relative term.

_Dear Mrs. Calliope Torres, _

_ As a well-due neighborhood welcome, you are invited to a ladies' luncheon this Sunday after church. The event isn't anything too formal, but we would love to see you. We will be having sandwiches and lemonade. The luncheon will start around noon. I live on the corner of Cherry Lane and Oak Road. Hope to see you there! _

_Sincerely, _

_Mrs. Ruth Jenkins_

Callie read the letter and felt overwhelmed with relief. She had been dying to take her mind off the only neighbor she knew. Maybe it was best she meet some other ones.

* * *

**Whoa! I made it the same length as the last chapter. Surprised? **

**If you have any questions for me, don't be afraid to private message me. Who knows? I might end up giving you a little spoiler...maybe...if you're lucky. I planned the chapters loosely enough to be able to incorporate different ideas of the 1950s. I'm serious when I say you should tell me to write a chapter about something from the 1950s. I will take suggestions. Besides, the 1950s are pretty rockin'...except for all the social oppression and mad consumerism and stuff..rockin'! **


	18. Chapter 15: Luncheon (Arizona)

**Chapter Title: Luncheon**

**POV: Arizona**

**Disclaimer: This is a 1950s fanfic, so it is AU. I do not own the characters of Callie and Arizona. They are the creations of Shonda Rhimes and the writers of Grey's Anatomy. Every other character though is of my own creation, but I might add more Grey's characters later on. Also, because this is AU and in a different time period, Callie and Arizona will not be as they are on the show, but I stay pretty close to their personalities as possible.**

**Notes: Yikes...it's been a month. I know. I know. But I have good reasons or bad reasons, depending on how you look at life. My laptop is on its death bed. I've been busy with work and personal issues. I am working on applying to college. All kinds of reasons I guess, but I finally finished the chapter. I typed it up on my family laptop which is also terrible. So I may have second-degree burns because this laptop is super hot. All for my followers! Ha...anyway, I had fun writing this chapter. I'm glad it got me writing again because God knows I needed to. ;) **

* * *

Baking soda. The one word ran through Arizona Robbins's mind as she searched for the orange-colored package in her pantry. She had more than enough flour. She could survive with the half dozen of eggs. And she always was never short of milk. So baking soda seemed to be the only thing missing.

She read the invitation over. "Bring a dessert to share," it said. If she had been one of those ladies that planned ahead and done things ahead of time, she would have made her dessert the night before the luncheon with more than enough baking soda. Alas, Arizona was not that type. She fit into the "do everything until the last minute and hope for the best" type.

But look where that turned out? She wondered if this was God's way of punishing her for skipping church today.

Arizona sighed. So far, chocolate-chip cookies seemed to be out of the picture. If she had been a skilled baker, she probably could have thought of some alternative recipe by now. But Arizona was only the most basic of bakers. She wondered if she could whip up some Jello chocolate pudding and pass it off as home-made, but she figured it would just turn into the scandal of the month.

She hadn't enough materials to make a pie or even a cake, but to the cook book it was! She fumbled through the pages until she reached the dessert section.

"Shouldn't you be at the luncheon by now? It's almost noon," she heard her husband ask as he walked into the kitchen, carrying Violet in his arms.

Arizona looked up. "If I don't bring something, what's the point?"

Her husband laughed at what he liked to call _woman problems. _"You can't go wrong with chocolate chip-,"

"I can't make those," she found herself interrupting.

Arizona's husband frowned. "Well, why so?"

"No baking soda. I swear we had some, but I can't find it anywhere," she sighed.

Mr. Robbins let Violet down as he replied. "Didn't you put a package in the cellar?"

She paused. "I'll go check,"

* * *

As she walked down the creaky cellar steps, she couldn't help thinking about the time her childhood best friend Nick and she hid in the cellar. She must have been eight or so. A harmless game of hide 'n' seek was played to the extreme as it had taken hours for anyone to find them. By the time Tim shone his lantern in their direction, the two had already eaten more than half of the strawberry preserves. Her fingers had been sticky from licking the strawberry preserves off them. And her lips had been stained a pinkish red for the rest of the night.

Arizona smiled at the memory as she held her lantern a little farther out from her. Her mother's pickled onions were the first thing she saw. Her mother could practically pickle anything as long as it could fit into a container. Tim used to joke around that their mother came _this_ close to placing a baby Arizona into a glass jar of vinegar. And until she was five, she had believed him.

Next, she spotted her favorite apricot jam. Back when she was twelve, she spent many long summer days making jam with her grandmother. They sang old folk songs together as they bottled the jam so neatly for every neighbor and relative they could count. Her grandmother was now long gone, but apricot jam was something Arizona could not forget how to make.

And then, near the shelves, she noticed her husband's wine collection. When she had been pregnant with Violet, he would often bring a glass of wine to her before bed, place his hand on her belly, and tell her he loved her…back when she thought she loved him. But now, the only feeling she felt towards him were long lost in a list of broken vows. She felt sick to her stomach as she pushed back memories. Not all memories were as pleasing to re-create.

Her husband actually had been wanting to turn the cellar into a fall-out shelter in case the Soviets decided to at last "unleash their fury." But the "do it at the last minute" characteristic luckily was one thing they both had in common.

She searched through the shelves until she found a small orange-colored package. Baking soda. Some things were just waiting to be found.

* * *

In her favorite polka-dotted dress, she headed out to Ruth Jenkins's house a little past noon. Ruth Jenkins happened to be the most pop-u-lar woman in the neighborhood. No matter what, the woman could always find a reason to throw a luncheon or a dinner or perhaps a small mid-afternoon get-together. The women that surround Mrs. Jenkins were no better than a flock of sheep after the sole patch of grass called 'friendship.' But in reality, 'friendship' was a mere substitute of the word 'admiration."

These women probably couldn't spell the word 'admiration' if they tried.

Ruth's husband owned a pop-u-lar American women's magazine. And it was no secret that "Dear Abby" of the advice column happened to be Ruth herself. Yet Ruth remained pop-u-lar as she kept up in the latest fashions and volunteered her time at the neighborhood elementary school. But Arizona knew Ruth was anything but special.

She wasn't exactly sure why she had been invited to this luncheon seeing how she was rarely invited to any luncheons. Perhaps a year ago, when she first moved into the neighborhood, Ruth had invited she and her family over for dinner. And Arizona made the courteous mistake of…never inviting Ruth over in return. So as she stepped onto Ruth's porch, she figured she was a last-minute invitation of regret.

She rang the doorbell. True fear was waiting behind the white-door entrance to, well, hell. The door sprang open before the last "ding dong" could be heard, and for a second, she actually thought they were all waiting for her. "Why, _Arizona _Robbins! It _feels _like it's been _years!" _Ruth exclaimed as she pulled the other woman into a tight embrace. Ruth Jenkins was a tall bony blonde, all angles and no curves, with a smile plastered to her face.

Arizona stiffened before Ruth finally let go. Arizona's purse slipped off her shoulder. "Years, no. But yes, it surely has been a while," she replied. She had a basket of cookies in one hand and her purse in the other.

Ruth's smile tightened. "You look…older,"

And like any woman, being reminded of her age was just what Arizona wanted. "I brought cookies," she offered weakly before stepping in the house.

Ruth had already turned away and walked towards the back door. "All the _other_ ladies are seated _outside_. I just brought out _sandwiches_ and lemonade, so help yourself," she told Arizona and then paused, "Oh, and you can set _those _on the kitchen counter until it's _time_ for dessert."

Arizona set the basket on the counter.

"I didn't _see _you at _church_ this morning," Ruth added and pressed her lips together primly.

"I—I wasn't feeling well," Arizona replied, her voice ending in a mumble.

Ruth nodded as though she already assumed the worst. And suddenly, Arizona remembered why she never invited Ruth Jenkins over in the first place.

* * *

As Arizona arrived to the circle of most ungracious women, she was silently praying for an emergency. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her dress and wondered why she always felt it necessary to attend these luncheons when she never liked them in the first place. Perhaps it was a blessing she was proved to be least pop-u-lar in the neighborhood.

"You can never go wrong with a tie," was the first thing Arizona heard as she neared closer to the group.

"Absolutely," Becky Cormick replied.

"Oh Martha, don't be so old-fashioned."

"A man can never have too many ties, Carrie,"

"Oh, I can," inputed another woman with a name that started with the letter T as far as Arizona could re-call, "I hate helping him with his ties. By the time I finish tying one around my husband's neck, we're both up in knots."

The other women laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

Ruth sat down in her usual spot—the center, and Arizona chose a rather safe spot next to Bonnie Reimer.

"Good afternoon, Arizona," Bonnie responded, rather soft-spoken.

"Good afternoon, Bonnie,"

Finally, Ruth spoke. "_Poor_ Arizona was _stuck_ with the _sniffles_ this morning and couldn't _make_ it to _church_,"

Arizona blushed. "It wasn't the sniffles. I had a headache," she lied, feeling even quieter than before.

"Isn't _that_ just _terrible_?" Ruth asked, faking her sympathy of course.

"Absolutely," Becky Cormick replied.

"Indeed. You missed the most delightful sermon, Arizona. God knows you could have benefitted for sure," Martha added, confirming her position as the "daring" one in the group.

The other ladies tittered behind their handkerchiefs.

"Don't be bothered by them, Arizona," Bonnie whispered next to her, "The lemonade has gone straight to their heads."

Arizona smiled a little. The other ladies continued their conversation, changing the subject to the perfect chocolate cake recipe.

And then, "How's your Vivian doing?" Carrie asked with only mild interest. Most women only asked about other people's children in order to mention their own.

"Violet," Arizona corrected, "And she's doing great. Thank you for asking." She cleared her throat and tried to tell herself to relax.

"My Hester has already learned to dress herself in the mornings," Carrie bragged. _Just as expected, _Arizona thought.

"How _lovely_," Ruth responded.

"Isn't that just great? God knows how important it is for our youth to become more independent before they marry," Martha inputed.

"Absolutely," Becky Cormick replied.

Arizona was starting to feel the urge to simply melt in her seat and disappear forever just when the doorbell rang, and Ruth got up to go answer it. "Be _right _back, _ladies," _Ruth announced, holding up her hands as she walked in a most delicate fashion.

Another woman was just about to join the already boring party of six.

* * *

Two minutes later. Ruth came out all high and mighty. "It _seems _our guest of _honor _has come _later_ than expected," she told the rest of the group. And behind her trailed… _Callie? _

Callie entered looking gorgeous as ever in a flowery dress with ruffles. She blushed. "My church ran later than expected. Sorry,"

"And what church do you go to?" Martha asked.

"Uh it's on the other side of town," Callie answered, not answering Martha's question specifically.

"You must be _so _faithful to your _church _to driveall the _way_ over _there,_" Ruth cooed.

"Absolutely," Becky Cormick replied.

And Arizona had already turned into a puddle.

* * *

For the next twenty minutes, Arizona focused on trying not to make eye contact with Callie. For weeks, she had been almost successful in avoiding the woman who lived right next to her…until now.

Arizona sipped out of her glass until she practically felt she was sweating lemonade. "Would you like a sandwich, Arizona?" Bonnie asked as she placed a sandwich on her own plate.

Arizona shook her head. She wasn't a fan of tuna sandwiches or any sandwiches.

It was one thing to be stuck with a bunch of snobbish, rude, intolerable no-good housewives. And it was another thing entirely to be stuck with the same woman she couldn't stop thinking about even after she told herself not to.

_Calliope Torres is not good for you. _

_Calliope Torres is not for you. _

_Calliope Torres is good._

_Calliope Torres _

_Calliope_

_Callie _

Nothing worked. Because at the end of the day, her dreams would always relieve what she was really thinking…what she was really wanting.

Arizona hoped for a helpless moment that Callie simply wouldn't notice her too much. She hoped she could somehow blend in with her surroundings. She wished she could chameleon into the background.

Perhaps if she were lucky, she could be mistaken for a lawn chair.

It had been around two weeks since she had last seen her neighbor…well, last talked to her neighbor. At first, it had been hard to avoid the temptation. Whenever she had to head outside, she would always cross her fingers for a second too long, just hoping that Callie wouldn't look out the window or be outside. It had become some sort of game against her heart.

As it seemed Callie lived next door, and since immediate relocation was not a possibility, Arizona could not avoid seeing Callie entirely. But a glimpse here and there couldn't put her over the edge but it sure could drive her to it.

"Arizona?" Bonnie whispered, "Are you okay?"

Arizona looked up. She nodded so Bonnie would leave her alone. The other women were more interested in their new neighbor. She knew it was Callie's one and perhaps only chance to impress the neighborhood women. She glanced at Callie. Same hair. Same eyes. Same smile. Callie hadn't changed but perhaps her feelings had. Arizona sighed. It was her decision to push Callie away. It was her decision to try to let go. _Then why does it feel like this? _

She had to accept the fact and stop creating fiction, but as it seemed, imagination had become her specialty.

Arizona stood up, deciding to use the time to freshen up in the powder room.

"Bonnie," she started, leaning down, "where's the powder room?"

"Past the stairs and straight-ahead. Can't miss it,"

Obviously, someone was a frequent guest of Ruth's.

Arizona walked past Martha and the others.

"I just love your bob, Callie," Martha cooed. "I think I need to visit the hair salon soon. God knows how short hair is so in style these days." As if God didn't have better things to do than keep track with 1950s hairstyles.

"Absolutely," Becky Cormick replied.

The other women nodded in approval, but Arizona was already out of sight. She let the back door slam behind her as she walked towards the powder room.

* * *

The powder room, like in any house, was a half-sized bathroom. There seemed to be some sort of contest also to see whose powder room could smell the best. Ruth's smelled like fresh berries. Arizona closed the door gently before beginning to rinse her face. She splashed cold water onto her cheeks and forehead, her bangs getting wet in the process. She used Ruth's towel to dry her face off, rubbing the towel on her cheeks until they became red.

Arizona was just about to re-apply her makeup when she heard a knock on the door. "I'm in—It's Arizona!" she called, while rummaging through her purse.

Pause. "Arizona, it's me,"

Arizona stopped rummaging through her bag. She could recognize that voice anywhere, but even then, she found herself asking who it was. As if her heart needed confirmation.

Pause. "It's Callie."

"Do you need to use the powder room?"

Callie shook her head before realizing she had to reply vocally. "No…I want to talk,"

"Now really isn't the best time-,"

"Open the door…please,"

Arizona set her purse on the floor. The door clicked and creaked as she pulled the door open.

"If you really just want to use the powder room-,"

"Arizona," Callie repeated, "I don't want to use the powder rom."

"Then what?"

Callie pulled Arizona into an embrace. "I missed you so much," she confessed.

Arizona hesitantly put her arms around the other woman. "Callie…Callie,"

"I know. I know," she replied, letting go. "You have no idea how happy I was to see you though. It's nice seeing a familiar face in a crowd of strangers," She added a laugh.

"People really seem to like you,"

Callie shrugged. "It'll change,"

Arizona didn't say anything.

"I don't like werewolves anyway," she added, giving Arizona a sly smile.

A laugh. "It's why I'm here in the powder room instead of out there,"

"I'm just here to avoid those disgusting tuna sandwiches. If I have to eat another one, I might just burst," Callie joked.

"Hear, hear," Arizona agreed, laughing.

Callie smiled. "And to talk to you, of course," she added.

"I…thought we already talked,"

Callie shook her head. "I…can't,"

"I can't what?"

"I can't sit around in my house not talking to you. I'm sorry for everything I ruined. I can't stress enough how sorry I am-,"

"I know," Arizona soothed, finding it really hard not to touch Callie, not to kiss Callie right then and there.

"But that was the past," Callie pleaded slowly, "and I would rather let go of the past than not be your friend again."

Arizona didn't say anything.

"Can we be friends?"

_No. _Friendship was an easy disguise for the feelings Arizona still felt towards Callie. Friendship was what seemed like an easy fix. Friendship seemed more pleasing than hoping to never see Callie again. Friendship was good. But then again, friends didn't kiss each other. For a moment, she imagined Martha and Carrie passionately lip-locked in embrace, and if Arizona had eaten, she would have vomited the non-existent tuna sandwiches right up.

"Yes," _No, no, no, _she told herself, but her heart had already answered.

Callie beamed and hugged Arizona again. "Thank you," she whispered her head on Arizona's shoulder. She let go and looked other woman in the eye for a second too long, her gaze wandering to Arizona's lips-"Arizona? Callie?" Ruth called just before entering the kitchen.

Callie and Arizona let go quickly.

"_There_ you are ladies," Ruth said, "I was _just_ about to set out _desserts_."

They followed Ruth outside. Arizona took a quick glance at Callie. She smiled, a smile she could not hide.

* * *

**Thoughts? Predictions? Concerns? Feel free to review or PM me. I promise you you will not be bothering me, and it'll just make me want to write more. **


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